It is not maudlin to address the reality of risks to your health while running and riding.
We all need to be aware of traffic safety, how we run or ride along the side of the road, using the classic rules, with runners against traffic, cyclists with traffic. We also need to pay attention to tarsnake obstacles, unexpected circumstances and just plain weird luck.
Yes, the strange and unexpected really can happen. Like the time I was running through Geneva, IL. and had hopped up some small steps at the corner of Route 38 and Route 31, both state highways. The intersection is busy almost any day of the week, and particularly busy on a Saturday, mid-morning, which is when I stopped and was jogging in place waiting for the light to change.
Then some drops of sweat fell into my eyes. I had just gotten new contact lenses and was careful not to brush them out of my eyes while using my hands to clear the sweat away. And then I heard a deep, strange sound. Metal on Metal. I looked up to see a Volkswagen Beetle flying through the air in my direction. There was nothing to do but jump out of the way, and as I did I grabbed an elderly man and pulled him down the stairs with me. He tumbled awkwardly and landed with an odd thump. But the action has likely saved both our lives.
The gentleman stood up, noticed that his wife had pulled up in a car waiting for the light to change, and got in. Never said a word to me. Not “thanks” or “Hey, that was a close one.” He just got in and rode away.
Glancing back at the car resting on its side on the curb, it all seemed quite unreal. But not thinking about the fact there were probably legal obligations on my part to stick around and describe the accident, I took off running east toward my home.
About halfway across the bridge over the Fox River, my body was wracked with a shiver that came out of nowhere. I could only call it a “death shiver.” When you’ve come that close to dying or being physically maimed by a flying car, there have to be emotional consequences. So I stood bent over at the waist, hands on my knees, wondering if I was going to throw up.
The whole scene is a perfect example of how close some of us come to dying without any direct involvement in the circumstances leading up to the risk. I’m sure you can point to a few moments in your life where you were directly or indirectly threatened without recognizing the potential for impending doom. And then you move on. There is nothing else to do. Perhaps share the story with a few friends; “Hey, something really weird happened to me today…” as they ooh and ahh and you say to yourself, “It really could have been bad.”
A second later and my life would have been changed. Perhaps both legs could have been cut off by the flying Volkswagen. Or a massive head injury. It’s useless to speculate. But not pointless.
I also almost died on the bike about 6 years ago. There is a big cycling loop called the Great Western Trail that leads from our towns in suburbs to towns east and south of us. The trail is a mixed bag of converted railroad beds and paved sections leading through forest preserves and backlots. It runs about 25 miles in a roughly circular loop all the way around Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory.
The only problem with this loop trail is that it cuts across a considerable number of roads. At one point the trail drops from a former railroad bed down a short hill to cross a major street where the traffic moves at 30 mph. I was riding at 18 mph when the ground seemed to drop out from under me due to the embankment. Hitting the brakes, my tail end came around and I stopped just before the road edge. And at that moment, a car came whizzing past at a speed that surely exceeded the posted limit.
I say there thinking for a moment. “That was a close one. I could have been killed.”
It is not maudlin to consider the possibilities. What is maudlin is to ignore the realities. That is the tarsnake of travel by roads on bike and while running. You really never can be too careful, or alert.
It happens. We have to be alert out there.
We Run and Ride 
Matt Damon? Yeah, I guess I could see it. He could play you, Chris, in the film version of your life, but he would have to stand on his tip toes. Me? Sad to say it would probably be Richard Dreyfuss. In my younger days, I would have said John Davidson.
Stay on course.
Jay Payleitner
Also STC High, Class of ’75
I chose Matt Damon not because of looks, but because of character’s he’s played, often vexed by their own intense concerns. That’s me.
Almost got hit on my bike a few weeks ago by someone who was texting and driving. I know he was texting b/c he waved at me with the hand that was holding his cell phone. I was close enough to notice the message screen on his iPhone. Nice.
Christopher, I still shudder to think of how close my 3 year old granddaughter came to suffering serious injury. On my first visit to our daughter’s new home in Batavia, we took a walk at nearby Les Arends Park. There was a beautiful path along the river, and we strolled along. She darted back and forth to try to catch butterflies. Suddenly a biker in full gear came up from behind us at a high speed. We did not hear him coming– no horn, no bell. We did hear a yell from behind but did not know what it meant. To avoid hitting any of us, he left the path and crashed into the bushes. He was bruised but not broken, and only sputtered profanities at us for not looking out for HIM! Unbelievable!!! Since then, I have been much more aware of bikers on these paths, many of whom seem to be trying to break some kind of speed record. Rarely does one ring a bell or even call out– they just speed right by, sometimes inches away, especially if we walk on the right side of the path. We have learned to walk on the left to better see oncoming bikes, and if there are two of us we often feel safest if we occupy the whole trail to assure that any bike lets his or her approach known to us. I thought bikers had to yield to pedestrians– that was the law in New Mexico. It must be different in Illinois. There should be signs to warn unknowing tourists of this danger.