You've Got (Royal) Mail.

Kelsey and I, wanting to stay in shape and get ready for a 10K in Edinburgh this May, have been running a few times a week for the past month or so. After the first week of our running routine, I realized two things: 1.) I had been wearing the same gray Lemonjello's sweatshirt for every single run (don't judge me), and 2.) Scotland in February is, um, not terribly tropical. I just did not have enough running clothes in circulation and the ones I did have were not keeping me as warm as I would have liked. A quick e-mail to Mom, "Send me my Brooks running tights and my teal Mizuno turtleneck please!" and problem solved.

A week goes by. Package should be arriving soon. Two weeks go by. Any day now... maybe. Three weeks go by. Losing hope.

I had just begun to resign myself to the idea that I would forever be without my nice, warm running clothes when I received a "While You Were Out" card from Royal Mail informing me that I needed to pay a nineteen pounds and thirteen pence customs charge in order for my "item" to be delivered. That's approximately thirty US dollars, but heck if I cared! I wanted my stuff! Logged onto the website, paid the fee, and got psyched up to run.

I checked my e-mail the next day to find an e-mail from, you guessed it, Royal Mail. "Dear Sir or Madam, thank you for requesting redelivery of your item. I am sorry to inform you that the delivery office cannot deliver your item to the address you requested, as it is not able to receive these items." Awesome.

So Kelsey and I woke up early one morning and hopped on a bus destined (we hoped) to Aberdeen's Royal Mail office. This trip involved taking one bus, getting off that bus then picking up another one, and it is worth noting that there is a Starbucks on the way to where we were to wait for the second bus. Thus, on that glorious morning I got my first Tazo chai latte in six weeks (!!!!!!!!!!!). It is also worth noting that we walked the entire length of Union Street before realizing that the stop we needed was literally right across the street from where we had begun this (forty-five minute) trek. Oops. But, you know, a little extra walking never hurt anyone. It was a sunny day, I had my chai, and I was gonna get my gear.

We knew which bus would take us to the general locale of the post office, but weren't sure how much wandering would be involved once we disembarked (. A short ride later we got off the bus, took a look at our map, and turned around. Lo and behold, a nondescript warehouse-looking building with a bright red Royal Mail sign right across the street. Things were looking up. My dearly missed running clothes were just within reach.

The errand took much less time than we anticipated. Not two minutes later we were walking out of the office having been told by the clerk that the package had already been sent to my flat. (I have a feeling the "we cannot deliver your item" e-mail was sent just to test me. Just to see how badly I wanted it.) Oy vey.

Well, after all that, I finally came home to a running clothes-filled envelope propped up against my door, along with a nice card from Mom:)

So let's recap...
US postage: $10.71. Customs charge: £19.13. Bus ticket: £2.60. Feeling the Scotland sun on your face, the North Sea wind in your hair, and hearing Coldplay's "Viva la Vida" in your ear while enjoying a jog (in your favorite Brooks running tights): Priceless.