As I walked into work yesterday, my feet found a patch of ice, and before you know it – I was on the ground. Actually, I was sort of impressed with my quick-thinking break dance move that saved me from serious injury. (Side Note: I did hurt my pinky finger – but I believe it is non life-threatening). 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.” And then, as if a sign from the running gods, the topic of this week’s blog was born.
Assuming anyone other than my mom really reads this blog, I have to say I’ve felt a little guilty if I don’t have a great week of running. What will I write about? I mean, a person that blogs about running should probably be… running. 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. I fall down. A lot.Â
This week, I’ve struggled to find time to go running. I work 7 days a week, most days until 7 or 8 at night. Not that it is any excuse, but… I’m tired. 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. The few precious moments I have had the opportunity to run have slipped by and in it’s place sits a feeling of defeat and guilt for falling off the running wagon. Again.Â
Then I got to thinking about how many times I’ve actually fallen while running. I’d like to say I’m prone to falls when there’s some good excuse- ice, a crack in the sidewalk, a boulder, a curb, tripping over a clown’s giant shoe- but that would be a lie. I fall down, out of the blue. One summer day years ago, I swear we must have had the world’s smallest earthquake (would it still be an “earth” quake? I don’t know), as the sidewalk rose to grab my feet, sending me hurling to the concrete.  Another summer day, I did a fantastic spill-and-roll on Oak Street less than 10 minutes into my Saturday morning long run. I ended my chances at a leg-modeling career (hold your comments, please) years ago - as my gams tell a tale of trips and falls in scars and bruises.  And the stories go on and on. There have been runs finished with blood running from my skinned knees, scrapes on my hands, and a fairly bruised ego. And each time, I’ve gotten back out there and kept on running.
So, I guess that’s the moral of the story. Finding my feet on the run again, I guess I can expect to fall down. A lot. Maybe my body was telling me to slow down, get some much needed rest, re-charge, and get back out there again. Stand back up after life has pushed me down.  Which is what we all do, each and every day. Running is not about never failing, it’s about getting up after you fall. And that’s what I’ll do. Like I always have. Brush myself off, it’s a new week!
Happy Running!
There is an old Japanese saying: Fall down six times; Get up seven. It isn’t important that we fall down. That is inevitable. The importance lies in getting back up.
You work too hard! Glad to know you stay so positive, though. BR is a great place was some amazing people. You guys are topnotch, IMO!!!
For the record, your big sister reads it, too! Feel better yet? And, I also have that falling down problem. Most recently on the stretch of road hooking up to the high school parking lot. At about 3:30 in the afternoon. To qoute our good friend Ellen: “Sucked the cool right out of me!” And I must say, I don’t have much to spare!