In the great escape, horses get ill, tires go flat and then you just need to really stop and think where am I at?
The function of being still in a trained instinct to go has a lot of secret wisdom you will never know until you leave the flow by force or intent.
My nature "high strung" or "intense" by observers eyes, was given such a good break by a double take of two tires taken in out in two strokes that it forced me in to a stillness brief enough to be grasped and long enough for me to do the math.  I had traveled 163500 miles previously without a single prick of the rubber wall traveling as far away as Vermont and back again in summer and winter drive.  Now, however, I was alone and new to a community where my rugged individualist immunity had given me no impunity from such a long road of luck's continuity being ended by the air escaping the pressure vessels walls.
I was at a necessary standstill.  The 400 mile needless round trip from 53 to 60 and back again was a frivolous waste of panicked haste and getting caught in another's woeful paste trying to rescue and save the day; my rope once again was begin to fray.  Now I was needing rescue and soon a stranger became a friend who passed by.  I was open because I was broken and that is a small trinket of wisdom's token.  He gave me a lift and our errands became common as he took me to town to fix one of two tires since the spare still held air.