If you have sidewalks where you live, count yourself lucky. My beautiful town has lots of trees and charming old stone walls but, except for a short stretch at the center of town, no sidewalks.
This large and fairly rural town isn’t near a lot of shopping, so it takes a while to get anywhere. People deal with the inconvenience by driving like maniacs. (I am above such behavior, in the same way that the ocean is above the sky.)
On my road, which is long and winding and has no shoulder, people take the turns at about 40, the straightaways at about 45 (I’m just being honest here, fellow townspeople/aspiring racecar drivers).
So walking on this road is suicidal an indication of profound stupidity slightly treacherous. But yesterday morning, I needed to get in a workout to meet my stikK.com commitment and didn’t have time to go anywhere else to get it, so I went for a jog on the
road of death.
It was 7am on Saturday and people were already running late, barreling down the road at crazy speeds. It wasn’t so bad when they could see me coming and had time to slow down. But when I approached a blind turn, the roar of a car engine becoming louder by the second, it was scary. Judging by the startled face of the driver who swerved abruptly into the other lane, I was not the only one who thought so.
I can’t call this brave. Just stupid. That’s what I think of pedestrians when I’m behind the wheel on this road. You must be stupid. Or you must have a death wish.
And then I swerve.