I gave myself a fright the other day.
I went out running on a new route I hadn't tried before.
I got lost. Not LOST lost. But definitely disorientated lost.
And I ended up running along a busy main road, with lorries and buses screeching past close by. Not what I'd intended. And a long way from home.
I was so cross with myself for making such a silly mistake, for not paying enough attention, for getting it wrong.
I doled out a severe talking-to.
And when you're running there's plenty of time to beat yourself up.
I felt small. And not in a good way. I felt vulnerable. And there are few things I recoil from more than feeling vulnerable. I felt pretty stupid. I wanted to cry. I prayed a lot.
Here's the bridge I was supposed to be running over (on a good day):
It's 250 feet high, and the only way to get to it from down on the busy road was by going up. A lot.
I made it home, eventually. I cried then.