On days, like today, when I do my hill workout through a nearby neighborhood, I often see an old Sebring Convertible parked outside a cute little cottage-looking house. The license plate on the car is “Topluss.” I know that it’s referring to the car, but I have this vision of the car’s owner — who I imagine is a middle-age lady with wild, curly red hair — driving around town in nothing but pants and a pair of oversized sunglasses. The thought always makes me giggle out loud. Fortunately, nobody ever hears me. I run early in the morning when most sane people are sitting at their kitchen tables sipping coffee, not sweating through seven to 10 miles. Today someone did hear me, though. It was the owner of the Topluss car…who happens to be an older, fairly portly gentleman with just a tad bit of brown hair above each ear. Totally not what I expected. Then again, maybe it’s not his car. Perhaps he was borrowing it from his wife…who I suspect has wild, curly red hair.