And Then I Fell: Hit The Pavement (Literally)

I almost never (if ever... gosh, is that redundant or what?) write a blog without drafting it first. A thought, an idea, an inspiration comes and I sit down and scribble away. Or whatever the digital equivalent of scribbling is... (see, this is my random mind at work).

But tonight, I'm writing the thoughts as they bombard me, for no other reason than to vent. I don't often do this online where people can read it freely. I like to think of myself as a happy person, an optimistic person, even when badness strikes. Is that horrible grammar? So be it: I like it, and this is my blog.

Why am I venting? I cannot run. This (at least in my mind/life) is a disaster. It's the last weekend in August, and I took on a challenge in Strava to run a half marathon this month. I also took on a challenge to put in more miles. I was ahead on my annual mileage goal. I was doing great. My average pace was hovering around an 8.30 min/mile. On good days, I was running a mile in less than 8 minutes. I loved the speed, the pace, the freedom, the music in my ears... Thom Yorke, inevitably screaming in my ear "Idiooooot, slow down!" which, in the greatest contrast of motivation, always made me run faster. But maybe last weekend, I should have listened to him for once. 

On Sunday afternoon, I took a nasty fall while I was running. In over two years, this is the first time this has happened. I'd put in 2.4 miles. I was feeling great. No lag, no pain, no sluggishness... my breathing, my stride, everything was in sync. I'm gonna do it, I told myself: I'm going to run a half marathon today. Right now. It's going to happen! WOOT.

I was listening to Ellie Goulding's Max Gordon remix of "Lights" when it happened. How anything so horrific could occur during such an angelic, atmospheric and inspiring tune that I love so much makes no sense to me, but life seldom makes much sense! I was soaring, cruising, almost at the top of the hill. I checked for cars, crossed the intersection, lifted my foot, and then everything changed.

My right toe clipped the curb, and after I unsuccessfully tried to get my left foot under me, I flew... flew... completely parallel for at least a few feet before I hit the sidewalk with a big splat. (Later, a friend on Strava jokingly hoped it wasn't like this). At that point, I don't remember hearing the music at all anymore, though it was still playing. The shock of the fall completely distracted me. It didn't hurt, initially. I distinctly remember saying 'dang it' out loud as I lay there, my hands under me.

I stayed there for a few seconds, staring ahead. I wondered if anyone saw me. I paused my iPod. I rolled over and sat up. I briefly thought I could get up and keep going. And then I saw my poor knees, a completely bright red bloody mess. It looked way worse than it was, I thought. My left one was bleeding profusely, already dripping. I stood up, and I felt okay. Maybe I should keep going? I thought about it again. Maybe not. The blood wouldn't stop.

Just a half mile from home, I started walking back, but I felt weird with such bloody knees: oh, what a sight I must have been. A very kind lady yelled at me across the street, asking if I was okay. I can only imagine what I looked like! I was baffled, and probably still stunned by the fall. I took her up on her offer to have her husband drive me down the street. I hopped in their car with their family, borrowed/took a paper towel and dabbed my knees. Finally close to home, I thanked them over and over for the ride, and went inside to nurse my wounds. 

This whole week has been a mess. What initially felt like mild wounds became worse every day. My right hand bruised. My left knee wasn't looking very good after a couple days, despite my efforts to keep it clean. Wednesday came, and there was no way I was running. At my wits end, I went to the doctor yesterday (Friday), got some meds for bacterial infection, got a tetanus shot (I was way overdue) and finally accepted the fact that I won't be running for probably another week. My routine UC meds mean slower healing, a greater risk for infection, etc... <insert negative side effect or possibility here>. Gosh, the downside/ugly side of necessary medications. I cannot say it enough! Ugh. I'm so deflated. 

But you know... whatever! I'll be back. I'm always back. I will dominate the pavement again, without becoming one with it so violently. I'll be so happy to be back, battle wounds and all. September, you are mine.