Near Miss

However that phrase originated, it’s purely wrong. Not that it really bugs me personally, but it does make me crack a smile whenever I hear it, thinking of how accepting we are of twists in our language. It made me smile, that is, until I was almost the victim of one myself today.

This reminds me of the Sedaris essay “I Almost Saw This Girl Get Killed”. This is what I can say now, smiling, joking, and incredibly grateful that my brush with death was only a brush. Boulder is so pedestrian-friendly that sometimes we forget, as pedestrians, that cars can and will hit and kill you. There’s absolutely nothing like seeing someone get hit by a car. It’s absolutely horrifying to witness, especially if your lifestyle depends on waling and cycling everywhere, since it’s an instant reminder of just how vulnerable you are. I saw a cyclist get creamed on Valmont once, right near where I live, and it was absolutely awful. The cyclist was heading towards me, there was a truck coming up behind him, and I was on the other side of the street running. I looked up, gave the cyclist a little wave, he gave me a little wave back, and I returned to my usual practice of looking at the ground about 3-4 feet in front of me. I didn’t look up again until I heard brakes squeal. The driver of the truck was on his cell phone and had swerved into the bike lane without knowing it. The cyclist went flying through the air like a rag doll and hit the asphalt hard; I remember seeing his head bounce and being instantly grateful that he had a good, well-fitting helmet on. I was far enough away that by the time I ran by an ambulance was on the way, but it was heart-wrenching. The driver of the truck was out with a passenger and the cyclist on the road, and they weren’t moving him for fear of damaging him further. The driver and passenger looked stricken, completely devoid of emotion, while the cyclist’s face twisted in agony. I said a silent prayer for all of them and then one for me, to never, ever let that happen.

I run the same route a lot, a 3.5 mile loop around my apartment complex. I love it; it’s my route, and it’s easy to turn it into a five mile, 7 mile, 10 mile, 13 or 14 mile, etc., depending on where you cut off the loop and/or how many laps you do. Got home from work today, threw on my running clothes, and headed out. I was trying out a new sport drink and the combination of “performance enhancers” (no, no EPO or anything too exciting; sorry everyone, more like caffeine and taurine and creatine) in the drink were causing my heart rate to soar unexpectedly and quickly, so I decided to pare down my 3.5 to a 2 mile and chill for the rest of the afternoon. I was scheduled for a rest day; I just felt the need to get out and go when I got home. I didn’t really care that my workout would be cut short; my heart rate was definitely the more important issue at hand. I walked a bit, jogged a bit, and took it easy until I got to the corner of Iris and Folsom, which is (for those of you outside of Boulder and.or unfamiliar with my route!) about ¾ of a mile from my apartment on my usual route. I was watching traffic turning left onto Folsom; while I had the right-of-way, I was running East and it was about 6pm, so the sun was setting behind me. I knew drivers would have a hard time seeing me, so I approached the intersection with caution. The first car turning left turned in front of me, completely oblivious to my presence. The next car was a black coupe, maybe a Mazda 323 or the like, and I swear, that driver made eye contact with me. I swear he totally saw me. I swear he was going to let me go first, and I realized, as I was bringing my left hand up to wave “thanks”, that he had no fucking clue that I was there.

You hear weird things like “it seemed like time slowed down” and “I saw my life flash before my eyes” and I didn’t see any of my life flash but it did seem like Hollywood’s greatest slow-scene production crew was in charge of my life for a minute there. Less than a minute. One moment I was running along, perhaps not gracefully but certainly peacefully, and the next I was face-to-face with a half a ton of metal coming straight towards me. My eyes were popping out of my head; I’m pretty sure my Oakleys were the only thing keeping them in. The driver finally (finally!) saw me and I saw his eyes widen and his hand drop the cell phone he was holding to his ear as he wrenched the wheel and slammed on the brakes. I distinctly heard brakes squealing, smelled the hot, horrible pungency of burnt rubber and stopped in my tracks, a total deer in the headlights. I saw the car turning, twisting, coming towards me, and I was bracing and waiting to feel the impact of the side of the bumper and the front driver’s side quarterpanel shattering my kneecaps when, by some miracle, the car stopped. I was so ready for it to hit me that I had braced myself so that when it did stop, my hands came thudding down on the hot hood. Shaken, I backed away quickly, my steps slipping out from under me as my legs turned to rubber. The music playing on my Nikepod (my word for a Nike PSA, stolen from a man who told his son that that’s what the device I was wearing was, when the kid asked if it was an iPod) seemed to come rushing back all at once, and I blacked out for a few seconds.

I blacked out running though, and although I don’t remember getting through the rest of the intersection and onto the opposite sidewalk, I got there somehow. I do remember falling over on the sidewalk, my legs falling under me and then getting up, feeling stupid and weak, dragging my liquidy legs over to a couple of 4x4s surrounding a tree on the sidewalk, sitting there, the music rushing around my head, completely unable to stop shaking or crying. I finally got it together enough to start home again, and as I started to run again, the familiar pace and footfalls brought me straight back to the near miss. I started to cry again, and the rest of the way home went like that…run a bit, cry, walk, run a bit, cry, walk. I was a mess.

I hope this doesn’t continue to haunt me but it sure scared the hell out of me. That’s all for now; I need to go to bed…