When it was raining last week, and roads were slippery and visibility not too good, there was a man jogging along Bruce B. Downs Boulevard. It was almost dark, like it gets these days, even though peak rush hour was not over yet.

He was jogging in the bicycle lane of the road, wearing dark clothing and almost invisible through the droplets of rain and the fleeting moment of clarity that the windshield wipers provide.

I wondered why he was jogging at that time, when he couldn’t be seen though the glaring headlights of other cars blinding one’s vision, and the red tail lights reflecting off the road making it more difficult to see. And did I mention he was wearing dark clothes? On BBD?

Anyone who has driven that road knows how much traffic there is, and how many police cars to catch people who speed even a little bit. But that particular evening, no one was speeding. Couldn’t speed, because there was a long, slow traffic jam. 

The jogger was not visible until you almost came upon him. It was a dangerous situation for him, anyone who might have gotten a little impatient and turned a little into the bicycle lane, could have hit him. And we all know what makes a bicycle lane - a sliver of white paint.

Why was he jogging in the bicycle lane when there is a perfectly good sidewalk on the opposite side of the boulevard? Why was he not wearing light or fluorescent clothing? What was his responsibility as a pedestrian on a busy roadway?

I heaved a sigh of relief as I passed him. I was glad that the traffic was slow, and thankfully no driver was impatient, and almost all seemed alert. I was glad that he wouldn’t be a part of a news brief about a jogger hit on the side of the road, at least not that day.