Since we arrived here a week ago, I've only gone on a couple of runs. One reason my runs have been curtailed is because of a giant hug by my husband. Picture me singing with my arms stretched wide above my head. My husband decided that was a perfect time to wrap his arms around me and pick me up. I yelped from the tight grip on my ribs, but didn't think about it again until later in the day when I started to feel pain. I thought it was my muscles and racked my brain for some exercise that might have stretched the muscles around my ribs. It took a few hours and an increasing pain before I remember that bear hug that made me yelp.
Cracked ribs or bruised ribs just need time to heal, I read online, so I curtailed my runs and tried not to breathe so much -- or cough or sneeze or sleep on my side.
|Maud the dog has no problem sleeping -- see her butt sticking out from under the blanket.|
I've been warned about Americans who look the wrong way at intersections and get hit by cars as they step off the curb. In London, at major intersections, words are printed on the road "Look right" or "Look left" reminding foreigners which way to look for traffic before they cross.
I kept that in mind as I ran, rarely crossing streets and sticking to the sidewalks, which are asphalt so not as hard on the knees as our concrete sidewalks at home.
As I loped down the main street in Reigate, I came to an intersection. I was running straight and assumed that I had the right of way when crossing the street, as pedestrians do in the U.S. and in France.
I stepped into the road and a car turning left squealed to a stop.
|This isn't the intersection where I nearly died. Just an example that even|
if you're going straight as a pedestrian, the cars turning have the right of way.
The cars have the right of way unless it's a zebra-stripe crosswalk -- you know the ones with white stripes across the road.
"Ok," I thanked the boy. "I'll try to stay alive this morning," I called as I continued my run, heading to a nearby park where I wouldn't have to worry so much about cars and which side of the road they're driving and who has right of way at intersections.
|A church with a cemetery, where I won't be buried since I didn't die on my run.|