Road Rage Optional

True Life: I Have Road Rage.

Or so I have been told. By friends. My mom. My boyfriend. An acquaintance who said, hey, you flicked my dad off the other day. 

As though there aren’t enough news reports that suggest I could be slapped in the face for this, or worse, use your imagination, it rhymes with smilled. I know this is something that I have to manage- but it’s hard!

As I walked out of work I called my mom to play catch up on my the drive home. I find the ride home easier when I’m distracted by a phone buddy, especially when it’s my mom. Soon into our conversation we were disconnected. Fate? Intentional? I tried to call her back but it wouldn’t go through, it seemed as though my practice in avoidance wasn’t going to work tonight. I decided then and there that I was going to make it home, all twenty+ minutes without my phone. I practiced some yoga breathing and felt determined to make it home without any episodes. As I typed that sentence I recognized immediately how crazy I sound. 

I drove slowly. I did not get irritated at the old man who almost plowed into me. I slowed down for the yellow light. I cut no one off. I did not flick off a single acquaintances father.

And I’m all about giving credit where credit is due. I can honestly say that running and yoga are good for so much more than a cute tush. This less stressed, less crazy me can completely be attributed to pounding the pavement. Any excess energy I have can only be exhausted on the mat or a treadmill. Ain’t nobody got time for road rage. So, thank you running for making me less crazy and less likely to be smacked at a red light.