So I was out for a run this morning and I totally bit it. Hardcore. Slipped, fell face forward, landed on my forearms and left side and slid across the ice. I almost wish I could have seen it, because it was probably hilarious. Laying on the ground, there was this moment where I thought now what? And my brain started whirring. Do I get upset? I don't feel upset. Do I call someone? No, I don't have a phone. Are my tights ripped? No? Phew, these are my favorite running tights. But suddenly I was on my feet, taking a few tentative hobbles, and then I was off and running again.
Weirdly enough, all I felt was happy. That my whole left side was sore, but my ankle didn't hurt. That no matter how many times I fall, I will pick myself up and keep going. That I am still an unstoppable force.
This is going to leave one hell of a bruise. I wish I could say the same for the sidewalk, that it now has a robot shaped indentation. But in reality it escaped unscathed. Oh well. I am off to console myself with vanilla chai and a new library book.
Lyric of the moment: "So, bless my heart and bless my mind. I got so much to do, I ain't got much time. So must be someone up above saying, Come on, girl. Yeah, you got to get back up. You got to hold on. Yeah, you got to hold on. Yeah, you got to wait. But I don't wanna wait..."
I fell this week, too, and also thought it must have looked hilarious. I id rip my 60 dollar running tights, though. Boo. And walked a block or so crying and feeling sorry for myself, but then I started running again (on the road where there was less ice!) and felt better.
ReplyDelete