I don’t do motorways.
It’s a simple rule of mine and means Mr B has to drive me pretty much everywhere except the supermarket (which I also never do as I’m a believer in the online shopping only).
As I write, I realise it’s probably the reason I only go to training and masterminds in the US – taxi to the airport and flight to LA? No bother.
Drive round the M25 to Hertfordshire? Cue headache and nausea all day yesterday.
I really felt ill: ‘ Must be coming down with flu…’ I mumbled (which also gave me a get out from a) getting up with the kids this morning and b) walking the dog in the pouring rain).
I wasn’s skiving – I was taking nurofen and really feeling it.
But at some level I knew it was just in my head.
Motorways aren’t actually scary. They are just bits of cement after all.
But I remember once getting somehow squeezed over in the fast lane where everyone was doing 80 miles an hour (much to my indignation, don’t they know that’s against the law?) and me only going 70 (yes, I’m a total square) and the people on the inside of me (or outside, whichever the supposedly slower lane than me is called – see the whole thing has built in confusion) going faster than me and the people behind me flashing for me to get over but not being able to due to speed of the ‘slow’ lane.
Ended in lots of snot and tears on the hard shoulder but thankfully not an accident.
So when I consider driving on motorways, I make up any excuse not to drive on them.
But today I did.
Today I was just able to take the ‘You’re going to die if you do it’ thinking less seriously.
I didn’t do anything more profound to make that happen except sit on the sofa and watch Pollyanna in my PJs cos I was ‘too ill to give the kids breakfast.’
My guess is when I wasn’t thinking scary thoughts about it, it didn’t feel scary. That ‘thought creates your feeling thing again’.
Don’t get me wrong, I made sure my phone was charged, I wrote out the instructions by hand in case the sat nav failed (kids been printing out photos of dogs so no ink left AGAIN) and a plastic bag in case I got caught short stuck in a traffic jam.
I didn’t need the bag you’ll be pleased to hear and made it to the training venue in one piece.
Sometimes it’s doing those little things that seem so easy for everyone else that make my day.