The Vehicle Always Wins

I represent what is left of a vanishing race, and that is the pedestrian.... That I am still able to be here, I owe to a keen eye and a nimble pair of legs.  But I know they'll get me someday.  ~Will Rogers

Rarely if ever do my wife and I vehemently disagree.  And even more rare is the heated argument between the two of us.  The only time a casual observer might event consider the slightest bit of discord between us is during those times when pedestrian and motor vehicle meet in the public thoroughfare.

The average person would think a running enthusiast and coach would take the side of the walker ambling from point A to point B through the center of a city street. 

Absolutely not.  I marvel at the foolishness of people who disregard common sense and common courtesy.  A marked and signal-controlled crosswalk, not 20 yards farther down the street at the intersection, has been placed there by traffic engineers with compassion and vision.  It drives me even more to fury when the same pedestrians cross during the rush hours, or at twilight while wearing subdued outerwear.

I'm not going to go out of my way to strike you, foolish pedestrian, nor will I blow my horn in an effort to startle you out of your reverie.  But please don't expect me to be exceedingly kind, either.

What caused Suzanne and I to truly exchange harsh words after a Sunday morning run and brunch at the beach, however, was a family crossing smack dab in the middle of the county highway.  With heavy early-afternoon beach trafic traveling both directions.  With a baby stroller.  I rolled up upon the gentleman with the stroller, but I was no closer to him than the large, honking van rolling up upon his back side.

Suzanne and I were both angry; she at my apparent lack of compassion, me at the gentleman's willful endangerment of his child.  I explained that legally, ethically and morally the guy was in the wrong; I would not willingly go out of my way to inflict harm, but in the unlikely event (with perfect weather and visibility, this would be highly unlikely) of a pedestrian strike the worst I would most likely incur is an overwhelming sense of emotional guilt.

"What if it were you and the grandchildren?"

"There's no way I would ever - ever - walk the kids across the street without being in a croswalk.  Period."

Normally, I would have not written or discussed this particular topic.  But I left home earlier than usual this morning, only to find I would need to take a detour to work.   An hour later I read the report of a runner struck and killed by an 18-wheel semi-truck.  As always, the details were very limited.  The road where the accident occurred is not known for being well-lit; I've driven it at 5:30 in the morning in months past.

Perhaps the runner was not paying attention.  Perhaps the trucker wasn't looking out for the other guy, didn't expect anyone to be out for their jog at 5:30 a.m.  It's a sad state for all parties.  A ton of internal combustion engine and related parts, traveling 40 miles per hour (64 feet/second) has force (128,000 foot-pounds) which far outweighs a 170-pound man traveling 7 miles an hour (11.2 feet/second, 1904 foot-pounds).  Even if the pedestrian was in the right, and did all the right things, and was entitled to the right of way, when it comes to close encounters of the vehicular kind, the vehicle always wins.  

It's easy to start looking at potential causes, like music player use, lack of lights or reflective clothing, and a lack of situational awareness, just to name a few which easily come to mind.  Did the runner decide to take a sudden turn across the street without taking a look behind him, or try to cross an intersection where the "big red hand of death" was displayed?  It's difficult to say.

Have I done a lot of things while running which would fall under the realm of self-endangerment; jaywalked, or ran across a street without using the crosswalk?  Yes.  In the overwhelming majority of cases the nearest vehicle hasn't necessarily been all that near. 

I hope that Will Rogers was wrong; that we're not all going to be eventually the victim of a motor vehicle encounter.  A keen eye and a nimble pair of legs can only get us so far.  Make certain to do the things which will allow you to see and be seen, hear and be heard on the roads.  Because if it's all left up to chance, we all know the numbers are not in the runner's favor.

Why Walk When You Can('t) Fly

We managed to get past Independence Day without much trauma. In fact, the day was rather low-key...pretty much the way we like it. While we did get out to two races, the weather was good, at least when you look at typical early-July weather. The morning race in downtown Pensacola was a few degrees cooler than sweltering, light overcast, and breezy. I tried to videotape some portions of the race, but was stymied by some dirt or dust on the recording heads. So, my morning of lugging around the little camcorder was a complete bust.

We didn't stick around for the awards, partly because none of the team buys/gals didn't wear their gear, partly because the team guys/gals who did run didn't really run to their potential...well, Lisa (Fairbanks) ran a good race for the conditions. David (Harris) and Sandy (Ebanks) also ran at or above their typical (recent) performance. So, we went to B'Heads and managed to have a nice breakfast until the masses came rolling in.

Why is it that people don't have the courtesy to wait until you are COMPLETELY cleared from the table and out the door before they decide to occupy it? A woman came over and started to put her cr@p down as I'm picking ours up...and asks, "are you leaving?" Of course, all I could hear in my mind was a Bill Engvall-esque response...which I managed to stifle rather than let her have with both barrels: "no, the table was tired so my wife and I are going to let it rest a second." Here's your freakin' sign.

The evening race, in Jay, was overcast, with light intermittent drizzle. Okay, the gnats were a pain.

Makes me feel quite jealous for the folks who were able to run.

We bolted just before the skies opened up...I don't think our timing could have been any more perfect. While I'm not a fan of driving a solid hour to get from point A to point B, the village where the race was contested was reminiscent of some of the places I used to ride through when I lived in Tampa.

Had enough time once we got home to have a bowl of ice cream and talk to the d-a-w-g...then it was time for bed.

A little achy today after a full day of not being in the sling. Today's research has been entirely without success; most of the materials (I believe) are already stored on my work computer. This being a whole new meaning to my favorite phrase: 'today is a complete and utter waste of makeup.' However, instead of wasting makeup at the office, I'm doing it at home. Cool.