I’m a stickler for running safety, obviously. (If you’re new here, just check out this post for a prime example of this.) But after this week, I’m considering changing my station.
On weekday mornings, I have about three running paths I frequent – all are street running that require several street crossings. After fiddling with a fine mix of jay-walking, taking the right of way in crosswalks, and just running in circles to avoid street crossing all together, I finally figured out the best way to cross street (or at least, I thought I had): push the “Walk” signal button. Wait for the signal. Stare down any and all drivers who are stopped or almost stopped at the light, and never assume that they are concerned with the fact that a runner is in da house (ooo, did I sound clubby there?!?!).
But then, there was lasso man.
I was listening to an episode of APM’s The Story when I noticed an elegant man running across the road kitty-corner at a busy intersection from me. He wore a backpack, an easy smile, and looked like those beautiful Kenyan runners you see at the Olympics. If I didn’t have an adoring boyfriend at home, I might have turned into a gooey puddle of swoonery. But I digress. I watched in horror as this elegant man with runner’s legs I only dream of bounded out into oncoming traffic, and managed not to get hit by any cars whatsoever as he crossed the road.
We both found ourselves on the same side of the street, and continued to run. My pace was slightly faster than his, and I got to the next intersection well before him, hit the button, and waited. Well, shock of shock, the man came up behind me, threw his arm in the air and made a circle motion like a little kid imitating an ambulance. And with that, he crossed the street again.
I caught up with him a third time, and found myself at the most deadly of all intersections I cross on any given weekday – a freeway offramp. I’ve almost been offed myself there more times that I bet my mom wants to hear about. Well, this cowboy of a man once again drew his mighty imaginary lasso into the air, wooshed it over his head, and dove out into the traffic that was exiting the freeway and had a green light.
And he lived.
Apparently, I have been crossing streets all wrong all these years. I’m calling Wonder Woman for private lessons.