run flat tires: you can't stop me til you stop me
This morning, I backed out of the driveway, taking Remy to camp (M had an early meeting) and somewhere between the end of the driveway and going very far down our road, I ran over a bolt. I wouldn't even have really noticed, except our awesome new-to-us car dinged and the displays flashed a warning, "low tire."
It even showed me a nifty diagram of which tire was low.
Technology is awesome.
I could not feel it at all, while I was driving. I could tell the car was working harder (purposeful engine drag, I'm guessing?) but it didn't feel like a flat tire because it wasn't.
(Slight side-note: the Mini Countryman has, like all Minis and BMWs, run flat tires, so I knew it was safe to go up to 50 miles, even if something wild had happened to the tire, as long as I went under 50 mph - I was driving residential streets so that wasn't an issue - and didn't bang into any potholes. That part is trickier than you might imagine, unless you also live in a place with serious potholes. NJ's are the pits! Literally! Hence my extra caution.)
Anyway, thinking the air in that tire was just suddenly low but still not knowing why (oh my goodness, run flat tires are so amazing), I drove cautiously to camp, dropped Rem off, and then drove around the corner to the nearest gas station (which also happens to be a tire place) where I popped my head out and asked, "my tire seems to be low on air, can I get some here?"
The guy just looked at me and said, "You're gonna need more than that, come look at what you ran over."
And sure enough, there was a bolt, right between the treads.
Even more amazing, it was easy peasy lemon squeasy to get it patched, right then. Fifteen minutes, fifteen bucks. I went and got an iced coffee and barely had time to sit down and take this photo before it was done.
It definitely could have been worse.
(Been there, done that.)
We've had this happen before, in our former car (a Mazda 5). We ran over a nail, somewhere on the way to the movies (Remy was with his babysitter at home). It was a slow leak, so we didn't know anything was wrong, but by the time we came out of the movie, we could see that the tire was completely flat. We had to call roadside assistance to get our spare tire put on.
(Another side note: emergency roadside assistance is so worth it. We used to have that through AAA but now we get it through our cell phone company. I am so grateful for roadside assistance.)
If memory serves, it took them about an hour, hour and a half to get to the mall. We went and had dessert while we waited, but it was a whole ordeal. We had to make sure the babysitter was ok staying late, we had to drive home on our spare. (Definitely not a great driving experience.) I can't remember if we were able to get that tire patched or not, but I suspect not.
Nothing with those crappy Mazda 5 tires was ever easy. And still, I was grateful it hadn't been worse.
It's been less than a month since we bought the Mini Countryman, but today it proved its worth. What a treasure it is.
Treasure is today's August Break prompt. I wasn't sure how the 30 Day Journal prompt ("remember who you are") fit into this writing until now:
Who I am is someone who has had to deal with far worse things than even the scariest flat tire experience.
That's why I am grateful for the easy peasy and even for the not so easy peasy.
That's why I am grateful, period.
I have had a gun held to my head. And I am still here.
I have lost a much wanted baby (and an oh so loved but couldn't keep baby, too). I have comforted friends - too many, way too fucking many - whose children have died.
There is grief in this world, for all of us. Grief and so much love. And I am still here.
And that's why I am grateful for every moment. Because I am going to suck the fucking marrow out of this life, while I am here. Carpe the motherfucking diem. Every. Fucking. Day.
That's who I am.
And now I have run flat tires.
If that isn't the best metaphor for my life ever, I don't know what is.
You can't stop me til you stop me. Hell. Yes.