As I walked into work yesterday, my feet found a patch of ice, and before you know it – I was on the ground.Â Actually, I was sort of impressed with my quick-thinking break dance move that saved me from serious injury.Â (Side Note:Â I did hurt my pinky finger – but I believe it is non life-threatening).Â And after I got back up, brushed myself off, and did a quick check for any camera crews lurking in the bushes… I said to myself, “Self, you fall down a lot.”Â And then, as if a sign from the running gods, the topic of this week’s blog was born.
Assuming anyoneÂ other than my momÂ really reads this blog, I have to say I’ve felt a little guilty if I don’t have a great week of running.Â What will I write about?Â I mean, a person that blogs about running should probably be… running.Â Right?Â
Hate to break it to you, but if you’re following this blog (hi mom) expecting to hear the tale of a girl that starts running, keeps running, and runs off into the sunset in the best shape of her life… you should read a different blog.Â I fall down.Â A lot.Â
This week, I’ve struggled to find time to go running.Â I work 7 days a week, most days until 7 or 8 at night.Â Not that it is any excuse, but… I’m tired.Â This week, my mind has wanted to get out and pound the pavement, but my body fights back, insisting that I lay on the couch whenever I find a spare moment.Â The few precious moments I have had the opportunity to run have slipped by and inÂ it’s place sits a feeling of defeat and guilt for falling off the running wagon.Â Again.Â
Then I got to thinking about how many times I’ve actually fallen while running.Â I’d like to say I’m prone to falls when there’s some good excuse-Â ice, a crack in the sidewalk, a boulder, a curb, tripping over a clown’s giant shoe- but that would be a lie.Â I fall down, out of the blue.Â One summer day years ago, I swear we must have had the world’s smallest earthquake (would it still be an “earth” quake?Â I don’t know), as the sidewalk rose to grab my feet, sending me hurling to the concrete.Â Â Another summer day, I did a fantastic spill-and-roll on Oak Street less than 10 minutes into my Saturday morning long run.Â I ended my chances at a leg-modeling careerÂ (hold your comments, please) years agoÂ -Â as my gams tell a tale ofÂ trips and falls in scars and bruises. Â And the stories go on and on.Â There have been runs finishedÂ with blood running from my skinned knees, scrapes on my hands, and a fairly bruised ego.Â And each time, I’ve gotten back out there and kept on running.
So, I guess that’s the moral of the story.Â Finding my feet on the run again, I guess I can expect to fall down.Â A lot.Â Maybe my body was telling me to slow down, get some much needed rest,Â re-charge, and get back out there again.Â Stand back up after life hasÂ pushed me down.Â Â Which is what we all do, each and every day.Â Running is not about never failing, it’s about getting up after you fall.Â And that’s what I’ll do.Â Like I always have. Brush myself off, it’s a new week!