When I head home from parties at 4:00 in the morning, there are a few things I can expect to see along Powderhouse Blvd. Other party-goers stumbling home, for example. Maybe a mugger or two. But a jogger? That's a new one.

That's right: on my trek back last night at 4:00 (except it actually felt like 3:00), I saw a woman jogging. She had the work-out clothes, the Nalgene, the whole deal. Seriously? It's Sunday morning. Who jogs at 3:00 (4:00? whatever) on a Sunday morning? Normally, seeing other people exercise makes me feel guilty, and therefore want to exercise, but seeing this made me want to go spoon Nutella out of the jar in protest. No one should value cardio-fitness that much.