I was doing my long run on Saturday and my usual route takes me along the farm road that runs parallel to the freeway. For the most part, it’s flat and straight with blankets of farmland, rows upon rows of soil funneling life from the snow-capped mountains jutting out from behind. On this particular day, a truck from behind me, traveling in the same direction, he in the right lane and I on the left shoulder, gently swerved over onto my side. I couldn’t believe it!
Most of the time people give me a wide berth which is so nice, but a lot of the time they don’t even move over an inch. But never has it happened where someone actually drives over toward me like that. I assumed the driver was doing it to get a rise out of me and I immediately felt angry. And then? I noticed he took a wide right hand turn down his private farm road around a giant mess of dead raccoon.
It wasn’t about me at all.
When it feels like people are out to get us, most often, they’re simply avoiding their own giant mess of dead racoon.