I joined my gym again a couple of months ago. The winter was a lazy one for me and I need to shed a few pounds. I’ve gone back and forth the past few years, and this time, I intend to keep up with it until I have as flat a stomach as a middle-aged woman can have. (It’s not so easy once you get out of your thirties. Pro tip: Easy on the fried foods and sweets.)

Well, I was woken up a bit too early this morning, couldn’t get back to sleep, decided to go to the gym and get on the exercise bike for a full 30 minutes to make up for the hush puppies and onion strings I had with dinner last night. The exit is a one-lane road that usually drives me crazy. I am not a patient driver. The road is wide enough for a car to turn right on red if the driver going straight or left isn’t hogging the middle. Which is almost never. Usually, I cut through the development next to the gym. Did I mention that I’m an incredibly impatient driver? I keep trying to change my attitude about driving. Then some moron cuts me off or does something stupid, and my blood pressure is up and the swears are clouding the air. I figure at this rate, I ought to have it under control, oh, around 95.

For whatever reason this morning, I decide to go out the main way, even though there’s a long line of cars. Tired, bored, looking at the birds on the island between the entrance and exit. My eye catches something small and quick moving through the grass. Chipmunk? Tiny bird? What is that thing? The light turns green, cars start going, the animal drops off the island and I realize it’s a turtle. Or tortoise. Whatever. I’m now the head of the line, and if I go forward, even if I don’t run it over, chances are the cars behind me will. So I jam the Jeep into park, leap out of the car, run over to the turtle and try to pick it up so it doesn’t get killed. Nobody tries to go past my car, but I figure everyone’s probably really pissed off that I suddenly jumped out of my car during a green light. The turtle, meanwhile, is going, “Holy crap! A monster’s trying to get me!” and it starts running (yes, running) away.

Try to imagine this scene: Middle-aged, slightly stout woman, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt from working out, bending over a turtle in the road, which is running away from her as she’s trying to scoop it up. I finally decide to just sort of herd it to the side of the road, since it’s heading in the right direction anyway. It gets up over the short curb and back into the grass. Success! It isn’t smushed!

So I run back to my car, yell, “Sorry! I just couldn’t watch it get killed!” to the people behind me, get back into gear and pull up to the light, where I turn right and leave everyone behind me stuck at the red light.

I have to admit, I felt no guilt about that. I was too happy that I’d saved a turtle. Or tortoise. Whatever.