Somewhere in Burnaby, BC, right now, there is a small stretch of asphalt which bears my skins cells. And possibly some blood. Why, you ask, does this particular section of trail contain my particular DNA? Well, frankly, as I was out running, I fell down. And not just any fall, but a spectacular dismount straight into the pavement.
Why did you fall down, Sara? Yes, I have logged countless hours running. And yes, I have run this small section of trail many times before without incident. What was different today? I have no idea. I tripped on a tree root. Or as my family and friends like to say it, "a dog looked at me funny". You see, this has happened before, and after that incident my lovely, caring family decided that I had fibbed when I said I tripped on a tree root. They rather decided that a dog looking at me funny and distracting me enough to make me plow my body fill-tilt into the ground was a more plausible explanation. Thus, to trip over a tree root is really to have a dog look at you funny, and cause you to fall. It really was a tree root, honestly. One of those ones that pushes itself up through the asphalt and causes a big bump. And in my defense, it was a pretty big bump.
I did manage to finish that day's speed intervals before this incident, though, so it wasn't a completely lost session (the 11th commandment-thou shalt not miss a workout during marathon training without a plausible excuse). In fact, it happened just as I was slowing down from the very last sprint. I must have been tired and not paying that close attention. Likely also because I was cold. It didn't look that cold outside, but I made a poor wardrobe decision before leaving the house. Damn you, Sun, for decieving me into believing it would be warm outside. I shan't trust you again.
And a spectacular fall it was. I could've gone viral on YouTube if someone had managed to catch it on camera. But there was no one around to see, so my pride remains intact, if not a little beaten and bruised (much like my body at the moment). I caught my right foot, which somehow sent my body caterwhaling forward, with a slight spin akin to a curling rock. I landed mainly on my knee, which due to aforementioned poor clothing choices was bare, and ended up with a pretty good scrape. I have a feeling my right knee may revolt at some point, as it seems every time I fall, it takes the brunt of the force. It wasn't just my knee that was damaged, though. My thigh, right elbow and the back of my shoulder decided to get in on the action too. I have no idea how I ended up scraping the posterior of my right shoulder, but I have a nice red patch and some oozing wounds to show for it. Essentially the entire right side of my body decided to break my fall.
Have you ever seen a 6 foot, 160 pound woman go headfirst into the ground with no control at all? It's not pretty. And it hurts like hell. The worst part isn't the falling, really. Or the pain. It's the fact that afterwards, bloody and sore, you still have to get home. And what's the fastest way to do that? You guessed it, buy running. So there I was, running back home, knee, thigh, shoulder, and elbow bloody and sore. And quickly swelling up into bright red masses that no longer resembled the body parts they actually are. Then I started to sweat. Oh yes, friends, salt in my wounds. Literally. It burns! It burns! Though not as much as the alcohol when I finally got home to clean it. I almost peed my pants it stung so much.
Well there you have it, the most exciting thing that's happened to me in a week. Sad? Perhaps. But hopefully at least slightly entertaining to you, my loyal fans. Hopefully I don't come across any more funny looking dogs in the near future.
