2010 03 05 getting hit

Susan Donnelly Ultramarathon Trail Runner. Motivational Speaker. http://www.susanruns100s.com

Getting Hit Date : March 5, 2010

First of all, I’m fine, it (thankfully) wasn’t a big impact. But as uber-careful as I am, it caught me completely off guard.

Here’s the story. I run to work a couple of times a week as a dependable way to shoehorn a run into my day (who actually wants to sleep at the office?), to give the run a true destination, to save gas, to set a good example, and to start the day right. I’m not typically an crack-of-dawn runner but this is honestly a fun and grounding way to begin a workday.

So yesterday at about 7:00 a.m., at pre-dawn light with the streetlights already off, I reached the first major road crossing on my route – the four traffic lanes and a one turn lane of the Turnpike.

I was wearing a neon yellow vest with reflective strips, a reflective arm band, though I hadn’t yet turned on my headlamp, which I use for cars to see me rather than to find the way. I was standing on the corner waiting for an opening as the cross traffic stopped for the red light.

The car in the lane closest to me had commendably stopped, but partway into the intersection.

The middle third of the car was smack dab across the pedestrian crosswalk, the front third nosing out into the intersection, and the back third safely behind the crosswalk. Amused, I glanced at the driver and wondered briefly if he was in a hurry and had tried but decided at the last minute he couldn’t make the light. Rush hour traffic can be highly competitive.

As my light turned green, I started to jog across the intersection. There was only one car moving in my direction, coming from behind and turning left in front of me so I moved slowly toward the middle to allow it time to move on its way so I could safely cross the remaining two lanes. I always give cars the right of way and never, ever assume they’ll respect a mere ped.

To get there, I had to cross turn lane, then choose which way to move around that awkwardlystopped car. I chose to go behind it since I wasn’t at the moment in the driver’s line of sight, though the driver could certainly see me if he was looking. I took my time, keeping peripheral vision open to spot any movement in the vicinty.

In hindsight, it still seems unexpected. The turning car had plenty of room around the awkward car that hit me and had almost completed its turn. There was no reason for the driver to reverse, a pretty stupid move considering there was a car behind him anyway.

But WHAM! The next thing I knew I was crumpling over on top of the guy’s trunk with an “oohfff,” arms and shoulders banging against the cold, flexible metal and hip hitting the hard back of the trunk.

Thankfully, it was a short back-up and I kept on my feet.

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I reacted as fast as it happened. Fight yelled to pound a dent in the top of his trunk with my already-clenched fist but Sanity jumped in, asking “what good would that do?” “Nothing.” I was ok, just shaken, bruised. Scenarios flashed through my mind but nothing positive would come of getting the license plate number, confronting him, or anything else. As the wave of anger receded, I knew he didn’t mean to do it, it’s just one of those things that happen. Then Flight kicked in. The clock had been ticking and there were probably only seconds left to cross the rest of the intersection or turn back. I hoofed it across the rest of the intersection to safety.

As I stood there and pulled myself together, I didn’t bother looking back at the car. Let him deal with it. My choice was to let go the reaction (grudges and resentments are way to useless and heavy to carry), take the lesson (don’t assume hazards are only from cars going forward), and see the humor in the absurdity of it. After all, I take my time at every intersection on my route, standing pat if there’s any doubt about making it across, and checking multiple times in every conceivable direction before and even during a crossing, but never imagined getting backed into on a highway!

No, he didn’t come check on me or apologize, though he had to have known he hit me since I banged around pretty loudly on his car and his radio wasn’t on. Instead, a woman and her daughter, complete strangers with their own agenda that morning, took the time out of their schedule to turn around and ask me if I was ok or needed to go to the hospital. That simple kindness washed away any of the negative left by the driver and left me free to enjoy the rest of the sunrise run to work.

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