My third blog of 2013 is about a literal getting back up after falling down.
Day 9. It was Workout Wednesday and Coach sent me some intervals to do on the track. My day at work was really bummin and I was tired and felt overwhelmed about a bunch of things. I was supposed to get off at 2, but worked until 5:15, so instead of going to LC to run on the track, I went home. I got out of my car and found Gregg working on the carport thing he built a few years ago. I looked up at him on the scaffolding,
Will you run with me?
His response: Wednesdays are my day off.
Maybe I'll just wait and run after dinner.
I went inside, went upstairs, opened the freezer, and pulled out some Christmas cookies. I ate four of them. I suppose that was hunger...or possibly just my need to eat emotionally. It had been a hard day.
I decided right after the fourth cookie that I didn't want to wait until late to run. Gregg came inside and he said he'd do a couple (two) miles with me. We suited up in our running clothes, he threw on a headlamp, and we went outside to run two loops around our neighborhood. Just over two miles.
It was really dark and I was thankful he wore the headlamp. He had also insisted on bringing pepper spray because I'm so afraid of dogs, especially Boogie--the evil dog up the street. He's the dog that chased me back in 2010 when I did project3sixfive Round 1. I will forever feel like that dog is out to get me. He barrels across his yard, barking fiercely, his nails hit the asphalt and I can hear him coming toward me...ugh. Not a good memory.
So we pass the house where Boogie lives--no encounter--and continue on. The first mile goes by without any issues. We head back around the block for the second loop and pass Boogie's house again. No dog.
Thank goodness, I think.
We loop around to make the second to last of two turns before we're back on our street. There's a slight downhill toward a stop sign before we turn left onto Chadwick and then make the final left onto Mullbury. As we head toward the stop sign, Gregg is just a little bit ahead of me. I'm thinking, I hope this mile is faster than the first.
I'm falling down, my feet aren't under me, and my right hand is going foward to catch myself. I feel my knee hit the asphalt, then a slight roll and my left hip, elbow, and shoulder are sliding as by body skids to a halt. About 3 feet of skidding to be exact. Mostly on my right palm, where the skin has rolled back to reveal a nice bloody oval.
Gregg runs over as I start to cry. My hand hurts the worst. And my knee. I half raise myself off the ground and then lay back down as Gregg says, don't get up.
I realize my watch is still running. I find enough energy to press stop, but then lay my head back down on the asphalt. Everything hurts. I cry some more. And kind of yell and groan and moan and whine.
We're less than half a mile from our house and I don't want to walk back home. Gregg says we should walk...but I don't want to. So we ran. And I made it home. And the shower hurt. A lot.
I acted like a baby all evening and asked to be waited on. Gregg was very understanding. He did say I need a fragile sticker though. I'm on the mend, but my knee had an awesome bruise on it the next morning and was all swollen, which made day ten's run a little tougher. More on that later.
|day 9. january 9. my hand hurts.|
|my scuffed-up hand.|