This is Jamie, a professional athlete (9:29 steeplechaser, so for you somewhat normal people, that's running until your sternum glows like a hot coal 7-1/2 times around a big big outdoor track, but along the way there are these crotch-high wooden fences that seem to get higher and harder and more openly hostile with each lap, and oh yeah, one of them has a deep pool on the far side of it so you land in water and have to sort of slog out of it like the first human, 7 times) whose look sings. She has not been embittered by the difficulty of her chosen profession, as evidenced by her insouciant hair, shaved soft and velvety on one side and shiny on the other. If you had been at this shindig, you too might have reached out and petted her tricolor lambskin (ummm, the lamb was not harmed after it was made into chops) jacket, as I did. Droopy pocketed dress, irradiated tights, lunch-at-the-club kiltie loafers -- go Jamie! She is in fact going to Seattle to join a group of Brooks-sponsored athletes.