a whole entry devoted entirely and awkwardly to roadkill

i have a pretty well-documented verbal and oral history of being afraid of roadkill.

if you’ve run with on two or more occasions i’ve probably mentioned that i have this fear – and the fear is not just the existence – it’s the idea that i could fall into roadkill – that it might be possible to splat into the splat.

it’s hard to argue with how gross that would be – nasty nasty nasty – however, it is very easy to tell me that this is a pretty ridiculous fear and the odds of this happening are slim to size double zero.

i often say when told that i am a nutjob that this improbable occurrence seems far more likely to happen when i was living in the country and running up and down the hills of southwestern virginia. there is more roadkill in the south, right? yes’m, we needs it to cook ours dinners.

it has come to my attention, as i’ve been greasing the streets, using my bike to commute to and from campus, that this assumption is oh-so false. the city streets are grossly, always, full of something that makes me swerve into oncoming traffic.

apparently, the thought of falling into roadkill is worse that becoming it myself.