At the grand age of thirty-three, I experienced my first road-rage incident today. And believe it or not- I was the aggressor.

I took part in an event today where thousands of office workers piled onto the streets in their body-hugging tops and shorts that were so short they make nudists blush. Most people weren't running and were too happy to leave office at five while trotting around town with their colleagues. There were huge hold-ups along the route while I was desperately trying to manage a decent run without running into any of the road blocks.

At the corner of my eye, a girl- a chubby one, decided to cross my path while yelping excitedly at her friends. I couldn't stop in time and ran right into her sweaty body and must have heard a muffled 'ooof!'. That was when I lost it and yelled at her. "WATCH WHERE YOU GO!" I barked, before sprinting ahead.

And at once I felt immensely relieved. Something that has been bubbling under for the entire day has finally boiled over. At first I felt a little smug about telling the girl off.

You can't just dash out of nowhere and expect people to stop right in their tracks for you!
Watch where you bloody run!
How old are you- what, seven?.

It felt good for a while and then the smugness dies off at the end of the run. I was immensely exhausted and soaked from perspiration. It was supposed to be 5.6km, but it felt longer. To put it in simpler terms - I lost my running patience.

I once read somewhere that running is a humbling experience. We run because we get motivated, but what keeps us going is the patience to get through the journey. A friend once told me that humans are not instinctively born to run because our forefathers ran only when there was imminent danger, not because there was prize money and a sash for it.

But today we do it for a variety of reasons; some run for fame, some for health and some for a size zero. But as we struggle bit by bit to complete the seemingly never-ending race, we learn that humility, a reason that is so easily overlooked, keeps our ego in check. It tells us never to underestimate the nature of the sport while overestimating our ability to overcome. Because there's always a balance.

So when you're under the hot baking sun and heaving as if you're going to throw up all over your partner, you begin to wonder why you're still doing this after all these years. You feel like calling it quits, but as you cast a longing look at your trainers, something always draws you back. Your humility needs you. You need to be humiliated.

But with humility comes patience (or vice versa). Runners can't survive solely on carbs, sports drinks and cross-training. What completes the picture is the ability to run at peace with yourself and with the people around you. Extending that into your everyday dealings makes the sport more worthwhile. While I might spend an entire lifetime developing patience, I'd have no qualms about admitting that I still lose it every now and then.

Just like today.

So here I am, apologizing to the girl whom I've yelled at, even though she might never read this. I'm sorry, I'm an idiot to have lost my temper at you. Even though you dashed right across me. I shouldn't have yelled, in fact I should beat the s*** out of y... oops.

Patience, patience.