Jaywalking. Or failing to follow pedestrian signage...

I've been a little lax in writing lately. Not for any reason really. Just busy. And, well, nothing super story worthy has happened lately. Until Independence Day.

Let's have a little review of recent history...

I ran a marathon in April. It kind of beat me up. I followed up with a half marathon in early May. And, frankly, following that, I was kind of burnt out on running. Needed a break. Started feeling like running the end of May, pounded out a few miles. Felt pretty good. Then got rear-ended. Threw my back out. Doctor says no running. Then some running. Light miles. No more than two. Every other day.

On July 1st I was cleared to run. Encouraged to take it easy. Timing was good because I was feeling ready to run again. Really run. It's a mental game now. My body can do it. But, sometimes my brain is lazy. I have a half marathon scheduled for the end of September. Training plan in the app, training day 1 is set for July 4. Independence Day.

There's something special about the first training day. The first green light on the training plan. It's hopeful. It's the beginning of a long goal.

It also makes the dog incredibly happy.

Happy Dog.

And so, on a holiday, the 4th of July, I was up early. As was the dog. First run is only three miles. Decided on an out and back - that's the easiest. App set for three miles. Dog on the leash. Let's do this.

I was feeling good. So good. Shelby Dog was settled in. Pace is really good. For a first run in a while. Almost home. Pushing the pace. .4 miles to go. Headed down Cedar St. Nearing the stop lights. Glanced up at the light. Turned yellow as I stepped off the curb. In the cross walk. I'm not going to stop with this pace. At 7:30 on a holiday. With NO cars around. Because, it's 7:30 in the morning on a holiday.

I'm through the intersection and about 30 feet down the street when I hear the siren. I turn my head and see the officer. He looks pissed as he's waving me back.

Seriously?

Now, in hindsight, this is where I blew it. I felt my eyes roll. The kind of eye roll that involves the whole face. The kind of eye roll that is visible even in sunglasses. And then, well, I probably made it worse when I very dramatically paused my running app before walking toward him.

I'm not going to screw up my pace, for God's sake.

He asked me why I ran through the light. I answered, 'the light was yellow when I stepped off the curb.'

This was apparently the wrong answer. Because he lost his shit. Lost. His. Shit.

"You don't watch that light. YOU WATCH THAT LIGHT." He pointed to the pedestrian sign.

Umm, what? I spend a lot of time in Portland. Where thousands of pedestrians walk wherever the hell they want to. Every minute, of every day.

He asked for my ID.

Umm, yeah, I don't have any on me.

Cue lecture on what would happen if I got hit by a car.

Well, all my contact information and 'ICE' is in my phone. Which paramedics and hospital personnel know how to access. But, I'm not going to give a technology lecture back, as he's obviously not in the mood.

Plus, I'm kind of a big deal around here. People know who I am.

He's clearly frustrated with me.

"You probably don't know your license number do you?"

Of course I do. 

I rattle it off. Complete with expiration date.

Then he asks me stats. It should be noted that he is a tiny human. Tiny. A tiny angry human.

Height?

5' 10".

I'm not. 

I felt myself lean into my toes to add a little.

It was all I could do to not say, what's yours? 5' 2"?

I stand there waiting while he calls me in. Having a really hard time holding in a giggle. Expecting at any moment a friend or two will drive by and honk and wave. At me. Pulled over. For running.

But, then I remember, it's a holiday. And, it's 7:30 in the morning. On a holiday. There are no people. Because, it's a holiday.

The dog and I make eye contact. I swear she rolled her eyes.

I'm expecting a warning. An additional lecture. Because, I didn't run a light. It was yellow. Plus, I'm a ped. I always have the right of way.

Right?

I watch him get out his code book.

Wait. What? Really? So obscure that you don't even know what it is?

Oh well, I'll get a little fine. What's jay walking? 20 bucks? It'll be a funny story.

It's not 20 bucks. 

It's 110. Dollars. American.