Yes, Mr. Man, I’m Running on the Road

If you’re a runner, I’m sure you’ve had this happen before. You’re running down the road, minding your own business, facing traffic like smart pedestrian, when a driver honks at you and yells, “get on the sidewalk!” Or you’re approaching an intersection at the same time a car is approaching from your left. The driver allows her car to roll through, just a little bit, not enough to actually hit you, just enough to scare and try to intimidate you. Or, you’re running on the street, passing along the outside of a parked car, or just on a narrowish road, and the car approaching doesn’t give an inch, even if there is a left lane to move into.

Usually, none of these things happen because the driver does not see you (although of course, that happens sometimes too), but because, in their minds, you are running on their road.

I had all three of these things happen on my run yesterday, which is why I was inspired to write this post. I am a respectful runner. I stay to my left as far as I can (fortunately, the roads near me aren’t too slanted). When a car approaches, I make sure that my dog is reined in tightly so that she doesn’t do anything to startle the driver. Heck, I even smile!

So, instead of flipping everyone off, or yelling back, I decided to release my stress by writing this letter to impatient drivers everywhere. (side note: I often compose letters to the newspaper in my head when I see, hear, or read about something that needs changing, so this is just taking that a little farther.)

Dear Mr. Man (or Ms. Woman, because, ladies, in your quest for equality you can be every bit as rude as the male of the species):

I would like to apologize for being on your road this morning while I was running with my dog. Yes, I do understand that is your road, and that I failed to ask for permission before daring to use a small portion. I’m sorry that you had to shift lanes slightly to avoid hitting me, although I thank you for that because it would have been a shame to ruin your day in that way.

Perhaps if I explained my reasons for encroaching on your space, you might have a little more patience with me. Did you know that concrete is much harder that asphalt? Yes, it is true. Approximately 10 times harder. That makes a big difference over time on the bones and joints of an regular runner.

While I’m sure you had no reason to notice, focused as you were on the road before you, the sidewalks in La Quinta are narrow. They are angled for driveways in front of each house. There are also sets of mailboxes placed throughout the block, another obstacle around which to detour.

You may also remember that is was trash day when we had our little encounter. The trash bins were lined up on the sidewalk, waiting to be emptied, adding yet another challenge to running there.

Remember that beautiful Dalmatian that I was running with? That was Penny. She’s almost 11 years old and she loves to run. Not only would that concrete be hard on her knees too, the narrow sidewalk and obstacles would have made it impossible to run side by side.

Now, Ms. Woman. I apologize to you, too. I’m sure that by forcing you to stop at that stop sign as I crossed, I delayed your arrival at work by at least 15 seconds, although you probably made it up with that acceleration around the corner. Honestly, though, rolling halfway through the crosswalk before you made your stop really wasn’t necessary. I could see by your wild eyed, frantic stare that you were in a hurry. I really didn’t mean to slow down that extra bit as I crossed, but, gosh, you startled me!

And finally, Mr. Man again. I knew you were male, even though I couldn’t see through the windshield. The testosterone you displayed as you claimed your share of the road when you passed was enough to tell me that. And, really, it’s not me that I’m worried about. If necessary, I could throw my body to the left to avoid your car. It’s just that my dog can’t tell if she needs to dodge. I don’t think her doggy brain is wired to know if someone is just being manly, or really doesn’t see us as we pass the parked cars along that fairly wide road.

In closing, I am only asking you to think before you act. We all need to share the road, and the planet. You might even try walking a mile in my moccasins running shoes. You’ll see the view through a different perspective (and it might help lower that blood pressure too).