So I've known some runners who fall more than others, some who fall quite often, and others who seem to never fall at all. I "fall" into the category of runners who fall about once a year. The particularly funny part about this is that I seem to have an internal gauge that starts alerting me around the eight month mark. A blinking red light will begin to flash in my mind that allows me the grace of knowing that a fall will be visiting me soon, or at least in the next few months.
The last fall I can remember was during the winter. Running in my fancy CWX tights (extra stability - you actually have to sit down to put them on b/c they are so tight) I went out for a nice eight miler with my brother Bryan. While pivoting to run around a corner my foot hit slippery mud and went flying out from underneath me. Wham - knee to pavement hard and then a roll.
While training for college I used to really enjoy running the Wolf River trail from Germantown Road to the bridge at Walnut Grove Road and back. I was doing almost all of my running on my own at the time and used to really move on that trail (the trail was always much nicer then which I attribute to my daily use). Great trail to get you totally in shade for eight miles, and it's nice because you have to pay attention to the roots, small jumps, quick turns, and logs! One wonderful run on that trail I was blazing along (it seemed fast to me but who knows) and had just reached a small portion of the run I always thought of as "safe." As I started speeding up on this nicely flat and smooth portion of the trail when I caught what had to have been the only small root on the trail for at least 100 meters. Usually I can roll pretty well and hop back up... I went flying straight out on my belley and slid for about six feet or so. All by myself I got up and looked around, brushed myself off, looked for blood, checked for injuries, and ran off in my embarrased stride.
The best I can remember: A leisurely stroll with my brother, a friend, and my wife on a bike (fiancee at the time). While moving up the sidewalk in Germantown Sarah was attempting to ride next to me so that we could talk. This proved to be a bad idea. It would have worked fine if not for the telephone poles that some jerk decided to place in the middle of the sidewalk. No I didn't hit a pole, but while looking over my shoulder to talk to Sarah while she held back to go around the pole is when I found some bricks. Have you ever seen those brick walls they have built all over Germantown neighborhoods that for some reason start off gradually at a foot high and work up to eight feet high? Well my foot somehow caught on this foot high wall and sent me flying into a tumultous tumble. Suddenly I was sitting down facing the road quite confused. I still have a scar on my back from where I skipped off the bricks.
Falls - only one thing happens every time - I have to get back up! Keep getting up folks.
Comment and tell me about your falls too! And look forward for more stories of more falls!
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