While exiting the relative safety of the quiet country estate roads while cycling home last night on my mountain bike, something rather entertaining happened (although I’ll admit that this form of entertainment sits on a knife edge between hilarity and horror).
As I pulled onto the main road and began accelerating, I heard a screech ahead of me. The world turned into slow motion as it so often does in moments of blind panic, and I freewheeled while watching a car snake across the road, narrowly avoiding hitting the car in front. Then I sawher, and figured out exactly what had just happened.
Every year - in May - the town holds a 5 mile running race. I was supposed to be running it this year, but various pulls on my time caused any thoughts of running it to fly out of the window like so many flying pigs some time ago. In the weeks ahead of the local race, people start appearing in the early mornings and evenings around town - pounding out the miles.
Alongside the near collision, a girl was running towards me on the footpath. She was perhaps in her mid 20s, athletic looking, with obviously “enhanced” breasts that weren’t perhaps being controlled as well they might by her choice of sports undergarments, wearing a tight white lycra top, andit was raining.
My guess is the driver of the first car couldn’t quite believe their eyes, and lost all consciousness of where they were, and what they were doing. The car behind probably suffered the same fate, andalmost participated in what would have been the most entertaining car acccident I’ve ever not seen.
Just imagine the insurance claim form… “I was driving down the road looking at the girl’s chest, when I hit a car that wasn’t there…”