However.
Unless you are running between the hours of, say, 8am and 4pm, you should know that if you are not properly attired, NO ONE CAN SEE YOU, MAGGOTS.
A couple of weeks ago, I made a nice, legal, slow turn onto my block, only to have to slam on my brakes for a jayrunner attired entirely in black. Who then had the gall to flip me the bird. I felt like stopping and yelling “You’re lucky I LIKE runners, Maggot!”
There is a tricky turn near my house where two lanes of cars must try to enter a street on which there is already a salmon stream of cars jockeying for position. Anyone with the temerity to cross the street on foot risks going under the wheels of a driver who has suddenly spotted a tiny hiccup in the flow and guns it. Recently, as I took a quick look to see if there were any pedestrians about to make a squirrel-dash before I turned, I spotted one of my best friends poised at the curb. I managed not to flatten her, but it gave me the vapors. Later she cheerfully said “Of course you saw me, I was wearing bright pink!”
Um, sweetie, you know I love you, but as Ben Franklin said, in the dark all cats are gray. So I immediately ordered her one of these.
If you ever run in the dusk or dawn or dark in a place where you could cross paths with a car or even a bike, you MUST have one. (No, I am not being paid to say this. In fact, I’ve paid for three of them myself already.) Wearing this, I feel like I’ve gained a super power. It practically makes you visible from the space shuttle; I can hear cars hesitating when they’re still blocks away. One time I forgot to wear it, and suddenly felt like someone had put a bounty on me—why are all these cars trying to kill me? And it’s much less annoying to wear than a traditional vest, which flaps and twists.
Of course, it’s possible to get taken out at any time of day by someone who’s, say, steering with their knees while lighting up a crack pipe. So you might think about purchasing one of these as well. I’ve got one that attaches to my shoe; it has my name and birth date and my husband’s name and cell number. My husband has a wristband version for when he’s on his (goddamn) bicycle. It was a pity that a teammate of his didn’t have one last month, when he crashed and got concussed and couldn’t remember his own name. (Oh and I have a discount code good for 20% off in the month of February: PC613486BBAF.)
Go ahead and ignore my orders if you want, but just know that if I squash you flat and you’re taken to a hospital as Runner Doe, it’ll totally be your own damn fault.
*or packages.