sports bra

Would you run from this?

I went for a run in my neighborhood yesterday. I follow the same circular route a few times a week.

The route takes me close to our local elementary school, and since it’s around the time that parents drop off their kids, I frequently see my friend Erin in her white SUV. Either before or after she’s dropped off her daughter.

Yesterday morning, I saw Erin approaching the drop-off line and figured I would see her again when I looped around, after she had dropped off. And I would yell hi or shoot her the bird because, well, that’s what old friends do.

Right?

As I was approaching a four way stop, a half mile from the school, so was she. I was feeling a little randy so I did a bit more than give her the finger.

Except that it wasn’t her. Even though the car was similar. White. SUV. Toyota. Even though there was a white starfish hanging from the rear view mirror and I know that Erin is into decorating with starfish. And even though the driver had long, wavy, brownish hair and was wearing Erin-ish sunglasses.

I realized quickly that no it wasn’t Erin because Erin would have laughed. This woman? Well, you should have seen the look on her face. (Yes, we made eye contact.) Her look was not one of happiness. No, I think it was one of fear. Fear of a sweaty, psychotic middle-aged woman.

Mea culpa.

So, here’s my apology.

To the woman in the white Toyota Highlander driving through my neighborhood on Thursday morning (probably after you dropped your kid off at school). I’m sorry that I flashed you and yelled at you while I was running. I thought you were my friend Erin. Honestly.

I think I’ll run a different route on Monday.