Trixie bounced up and down and blew on her hands.

"Forty-two degrees and breezy. What a day to run a race," she grumbled.

O'Leary's, the local pub, always held a huge Saint Patrick's Day festival, complete with musical bands, Irish food and games. This year, a 5K run had been added to the mix, with the proceeds benefitting the local food pantries. Trixie had decided that she was going to enter the run. However, the remaining Bobwhites were not with her on this activity. Honey, Diana, Brian and Jim were all away at college; Mart and Dan claimed to be too busy. Trixie held firm and began her training. She found that while running, her mind was released from the daily grind it endured. Within weeks, Trixie was totally hooked. Now she stood ready to begin her first race, nerves and excitement battling within her. Since it was Saint Patrick's Day the distant Bobwhites had made it back to Sleepyside with the intent to celebrate together. The plan was to meet back at the pub after the race and spend the evening enjoying the Irish food and the green beer.

Trixie was securing her number to her shirt when she heard Diana and Honey approach her.

"Hey, Trix, are you ready for this?" asked Honey.

"Absolutely," grinned Trixie.

"You know, Trixie, I love your shirt and your green tights are absolutely adorable, but I think you could use one more thing to make you a memorable runner," said Diana slyly.

Trixie looked down and saw a green tutu that Diana was holding out to Trixie.

"No way," Trixie said firmly. "I am not wearing a tutu."

"Oh, come on Trixie. You would look so cute," coaxed Honey.

"I am running in a race, not trying to win a weird fashion contest," Trixie argued.

"Please?" begged Diana and Honey.

Trixie shook her head and moved over to the starting line. She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around.

"I said no. I'm not going to wear the tutu," she said before she realized that the hand belonged to Dan.

He grinned down at the petite runner, "I agree, the tutu is not your style. But this is." Looking down, Trixie realized that Dan had slid a sash over her head. The sash had the words, Kiss Me, I'm Irish, emblazoned across it.

"Dan, I'm not Irish," Trixie protested.

"Come on lass, everybody's Irish today." said Dan, imitating an Irish brogue. He pointed to his own sash with the same words.

"And," Dan continued, "this Bobwhite has risen to the challenge of the race. I'm sure my academy training has me well prepared for a 5K."

"Oh, you're on, Mangan," Trixie said, a smile spreading across her face. She turned and faced the starting line. As the gun went off signaling the start of the race, she shot forward, her green tights leading the pack.