Monday, September 10, 2012

Road Runner

It's pretty rare that I wish misfortune on others but sometimes Satan just gets the best of me.

Hubs and I had a killer run yesterday.  9 miles.  9 freakin' miles!  We had head out intending to get 10 but cut it a little short.

The morning was perfect.  A cool, crisp 68 degrees when we took out.  Our first mile was effortless... which almost never happens for me.  As we turned to enter a rural road I turned to ask hubs if it was okay.  He typically won't run on this road as the sight line is diminished and it makes him a tad nervous.

"I'd like to see my son again", he replied.
"It will be okay, I promise" I said reassuringly.

I'd run this road many times last year with my marathon friend.  She gave me loads of advice of how to tuck and roll into the ditch if necessary so I was totally prepared.  I led the way since I was wearing a brighter color than hubs and waved at every passer by that graciously moved to the center of the road to assure us they saw us coming.  By the end, we were past two miles.

We turned and ran through a development we know well and ran the next two miles.  No problems there.  We even turned and ran through my marathon friend's parent's 'hood.  Thank god we'd done that before so I knew where we were going!  I realized around 4 1/2 miles a potty break was necessary.  Ugh.  Hate that.  We'd already passed her p's so I knew it was a woods kind of day.

At mile 5 we hit a GIANT hill.  I hate it and almost never run on that street for that very reason.  I started to fall back as I watched hubs conquer it with ease.  I get so jealous of his running some days.  He pushes right through any perceived pain he may have (as I sure as hell never see it!).  Great time for a break... I slow to a walk and look for some trees.

I hit the road again realizing he is quite far ahead of me.  I kick it into gear as best I can and catch him at about 3/4 of a mile ahead.

Our last turn.  Mile 6 1/2.  We are in the stretch home.

As we are running up a very familiar road I am one step behind hubs.  I actually love running there (although usually I'm behind his left shoulder when on open streets or sidewalks).  I love to move with his same rhythm.  Most runs I forget I'm running as I watch his feet and mine mirror his steps.  If he ever stopped suddenly I'd probably ram into him and knock us both into the street!

We conquer our last hill (okay, I walked the last 20 feet) and started the descent towards our 'hood.  It's later in the day now (roughly 2 hours later) so traffic has kicked up a bit.  Even so, people around our area are typically very kind to runners and bikers.  Not so much today.

I never saw it coming... it was way to fast.  Luckily, I was a few steps behind hubs to actually see his reaction.  My following reaction was just as bad.

A full sized, gold Ford F-150 came right at us.  The side mirror on the right brushed hubs arm causing him to jerk and dive off the road.  I followed his jump just in time.

The asshole never even slowed.  

I was scared.  REALLY scared.  By the time we got another half mile to our neighborhood entrance, I was crying.  And I couldn't stop.

I actually thought we were going to be hit.

Images were flashing through my head so quickly I could barely focus.  He would have hit my right side... could he hit just my shoulder without hitting my body?  What if I flew in the air... would he (or someone else) run over me?  If he stopped, I feared hubs would have beaten him until he was dead for hitting me.  

I've jumped off the street many times just to be sure I was far enough away.  I always, always run inside the white line (if there is enough pavement) or place my feet DIRECTLY on the white line.  I try so hard to keep my 30 inches of space away from traffic.

I've definitely been spooked.  A full mile and a half later I was still shaking... and MAD.  I'm still mad (obviously, I'm blogging it).

I wrote the City a note.  Told them if I get hit on this street with no sidewalks we are suing them (along with everyone else).  I've lived in this town 40 years, paid taxes for the last 22 and passed every single, solitary improvement ballot for this City since I was old enough to vote.  It's ridiculous that they can't figure out how to pave a sidewalk for this street - especially with the vast amount of bike traffic that occurs here.

They won't care.  They will give me some political or fiscal answer... if they even answer.  All I want is to run... and do so safely.

In case you are wondering (friends not from here). I can't get out of my development without this street.  For long runs, I simply cannot run in circles around my 'hood.  It drives me batty.

So I'll keep donning my reflective gear and bright colored clothes, wave and smile to everyone that is nice to me, and hope to GOD that I never, ever, ever see that asshole on the street again.  And I pray all of my other runner friends don't encounter him either.

Happy Monday friends... safe travels!

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