Miami Traffic Is So Bad That I Did Yoga on the Highway
Photo by Kristin Bjornsen
Hi, I’m Kristin. I'm the art director at Miami New Times, and I'm used to suffering in South Florida's agonizing traffic. Most days I spend at least 40 minutes each way trapped in my car, slogging between my house in Broward County and our office in Wynwood.
Yesterday I finally snapped. It was 9:45 a.m., and I was driving northbound on the massive Golden Glades Interchange overpass on I-95. Traffic slowed to a crawl. Then it stopped. Forever.
We didn't know it, but an armored bank truck had flipped farther up the highway, shutting down every lane. For nearly two hours, we sat there. I was running out of gas. I kept cutting my engine to conserve fuel. It was hot. I was bored. And I am an unintentional troll.
After the first hour, I was preparing to make a “Need Gas” sign with a piece of Costco cardboard in my trunk. I wondered if I could roll downhill and make it to King of Diamonds for some afternoon strippers. Would UberEats deliver to me up here? Maybe we'll all just starve to death and die on this highway.
Then I found my yoga mat. I knew this was the only opportunity I would ever have to strike a yoga pose on a highway that any other time would kill me.
I was one of only four drivers that I saw getting out of their vehicles to enjoy the view. Only four. Think about that. Dozens of people were sitting in their cars for nearly two hours with a stunning view of North Miami Beach, and they didn’t even roll down their windows.
Photo by Kristin Bjornsen
Instead, I saw a man in a Porsche angrily yelling into what I assume was an iPhone 8, and a guy who didn’t even put his car in park until about 45 minutes into the party.
Since last night, thanks to a Channel 10 writeup, my story has gone viral.
The reactions have ranged from “Lock her up” to “We need more of you in this world.” Obviously, I prefer the latter. The truth is I didn't really do much yoga on the highway; I was just trying to make a point about traffic in Miami and how we handle it.
Part of me feels guilty that people actually think I was Zen-ing out on the highway. But in a way, I was — because I was laughing at an uncontrollable situation, aghast that so few people got out of their cars, and making the best of what I hope happens to me only once in this lifetime.
I also took photos of garbage and picked up two stray express lane poles that careless drivers had knocked over.
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