Awfully dutiful!
I’ve been dragging myself to the gym in the pre-dawn darkness for over a decade. It’s my thing. I’m an "early bird," which is just a polite way of saying I lack the capacity for joy of sleeping-in after 6:00 AM. Since the rest of the world is still dreaming, I have zero excuses to skip. It’s a flawless system that works well for my schedule.
Today started like any other day. I pulled out of my driveway while the sun was still snoozing. The drive is a five-minute straight shot—just me, a few stoplights, and the eerie silence of empty streets.
While waiting at a red light, I noticed a police car slide in behind me. I didn’t sweat it. My speed was legal, my headlights were actually functioning , and I had my license. I was the picture of civic obedience. What could possibly go wrong? Right!
E.ve.r.yt.h.i.n.g.
The road signal turned green, I made my right turn, and suddenly my rearview mirror turned into a disco light of red and blue. The "pull over" lights were screaming at me.
I pulled over with the calm, smug composure of a person who has never even stolen a grape from the grocery store. My brain started racing—not with fear, but with anticipation. I knew exactly what was coming. They were going to ask me what a fine, upstanding citizen like myself was doing out at this ungodly hour. I had my answer locked and loaded. I was ready to flex my discipline like a physical attribute.
Two officers approached. They checked my license. They did a drug test. They told me it was a "random stop." I sat there patiently, watching the occasional passerby drive past and give me that “Look at this reckless getting busted at 5:00 AM” side-eye. I didn't care. I was just waiting for The Question.
The breathalyzer came back negative. The officers were satisfied.
"All good! Drive safe!" one said, already turning his back to walk away.
My heart sank. I couldn't believe it. I rolled down the window and actually called out to them: "Wait! Don't you... don't you want to know where I'm going at this hour?"
The officer didn't even pause. "Nah, you’re all good! Have a nice day!"
I sat there in the silence of my car, genuinely offended. I was five minutes late to my workout and for what? I didn’t even get to tell anyone I was going to the gym! If a girl goes to the gym at 5:00 AM and a police officer doesn't acknowledge the hustle, did it even happen? Is my discipline even real if it isn't documented by local law enforcement?
When I finally got to the gym, I told my trainer the whole tragic tale. He looked at me with pure, soulful understanding and asked the only thing that mattered:
"Did he at least ask you where you were going?"
See?! I’m not crazy. He should have asked. If I’m going to be inconvenienced by the law, I at least deserve the opportunity to be a total "health-and-fitness" martyr for thirty seconds. Talk about a missed connection.
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