I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was playing chicken all morning with drivers who woke up with the sole purpose in life to first blind me with their headlights and then run me off the road into ankle deep, sopping wet grass. You were the first person to apologize for nearly mauling me, but, unfortunately, when you rolled down your window to yell "SORRY", you positioned yourself for the fall out when the straw broke the camel's back. Sure, I played the Mom Card--you guys need to watch where you're going!--as if the five of you colluded together at 6 in the morning to space yourselves out along the road and try your best to give me a heart attack. I also may have exaggerated slightly--I've been run over five times already this morning!--which was blatantly and obviously untrue because if I had been run over, I wouldn't have been out running still, but keep in mind that every word counts when you're slogging through 9 miles and slipping in an "almost" would have weakened the point. Still. I realize that my response wasn't exactly loving.
Consequently, you may choose from a variety of different response options should you try to run me over again next week.
Option A) I have five kids! Is this an offer to help my husband raise them?
Option B) I get that you need to retake driver's ed, but this is not the right way to ask!
Option C) I am not a small woman. I will put a large dent in your car!
Option D) I know where I'm going if you plow me over. Do you know where you're going if you hit me with your giant SUV? Jail.
Option E) You're forgiven. Go forth without hitting anyone else, drink some coffee, and sin no more.
I felt extremely guilty for the next mile after I yelled at you (which, incidentally, somehow managed to improve my pace--so, thanks for that), but when I got home, my husband informed me that you probably deserved much worse. In his defense, he was most likely imagining his life without me, which would call for a fairly strong response on his part. Rumor has it, he actually likes me, and not just because I keep the masses relatively under control. Still, if I ever see you again, I will graciously accept your apology and then graciously proffer one of my own, because I try not to yell at total strangers. Only at my children when they shoot me with nerf guns before I've had my coffee or leave half a PB&J smeared across the floor at lunch. Because I have standards.
For now, you should know that next week I'm coming armed with a paint gun and will take aim at any car that attempts to run me off the road.
Yours,
Crazy early morning runner lady
PS I'm including this picture of myself eating pineapple out of a super sweet pineapple bowl with a tiny fork so that you can see what I look like when I'm not drenched in sweat and yelling at you. I don't look insane at all, right? Right? RIGHT?!
PPS I'm also including this picture of my youngest progeny. This may confuse you initially, but look closely. While at first she appears adorable and innocent, sitting on the curb, eating her apple like a little paragon of virtue, when you look closer, you will note that she has the crazy eyes. Run me over next week, and the Man will sic her on you.
3 comments:
Please document the paint gun war. Looking forward to it. (Not that I want you to have any more close calls! But some drivers deserve paintballs to the car anyway.)
I have my own resentment toward inconsiderate motorists AND CYCLISTS, but, as my dad points out, one can be right and still be squashed because cars are bigger than humans, so maybe a fresh running route is in your future.
I got hit by a motorcycle going the wrong way down a one-way street. But he only really dinged me. No injuries. I also had to dodge a fleet of horses being ridden by men in turbans yesterday. And there is this one evil street dog that always tries to attack me. Sometimes I have to throw rocks at it. Don't worry--I never actually hit it because I'm terrible at throwing. Now that it's nearly 100 degrees every morning before 6am, I'm soooo slow and usually deciding to shorten the run by the time I hit mile 3. Stay safe out there. Eat more pineapple. Or come here and have mangos because tis the season here. Bring ol' crazy eyes (I taught her that).
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