On Saturday morning I was going to go for a short run. I told Joe, “just two or three miles, depending how my knee feels,” and out the door I went. I wanted to get in an outdoor run before the Saturday rain hit.
I started my iPod and started my watch. I thought it was impossible, but it happened again.
My left ankle gave out on me (which it usually does in the same spot every run) and I did not recover (like usually do). I fell.
Yes. Lera fell. Again. Go ahead laugh. I’d join you, except that I pulled a muscle in my chest and it hurts any time I try to breathe, laugh, or move.
It happened so fast that I couldn't even think “not my knees! NOT MY KNEES!” Before I knew what was happening both knees were on the road and my mind was screaming, “not my face! NOT MY FACE!” And I threw my hands down on the ground. And I did a major, major push-up action. Well, I didn’t really push up. I just landed that way. Like I was going to do a push-up, if I could do a push-up. My nose came within two inches of the road.
To make matters worse, a car stopped to ask if I was okay. Yes. There was a witness to this fall. (I keep wondering, “do I know that person?” and worse yet, “do they know me??” I’m terrified at the thought of hearing “Oh, the new council person just did a face plant on the road back there.”)
So I lost a little bit of my dignity that morning. And a bunch of skin on my knees That fall I had last week in the chicken coop pales in comparison to this fall. I am sore from my armpits to my ankles. (Oh, the faulty ankle is fine, by the way. It just pulled a naughty prank on me that morning.) I can’t bend my knees without wanting to cry. I can’t squat to lower myself onto the sofa. I can’t get off the sofa. I had to use the wheelchair-accessible bathroom at church yesterday so I could use the bar to lower myself and hoist myself back up again. All the while groaning in agony. (I only went to church because the children were in a program and I didn’t want to miss it and one of my boys had a talk.)
So that was my weekend. Sitting on the sofa with ice on my knees and handfuls of ibuprofen. Not much else to report. (Oh, except poor Spenser had an ingrown toenail fixed on Friday. That poor little girl.)
So, for those of you who asked, I think I will put something in my sidebar about the number of falls Lera can take. This fall makes three. Well, three that I can remember. Three that have caused significant pain/injury. (Since mid-July.)
*Oh, and did I mention that I was less than 10 seconds into my run when this happened? 10 seconds! I was in front of my next door neighbor's house. Well, actually, in front of the lot that separates us. That may have been my shortest run in history.
*If you notice the nasty yellowing bruise down my shin, it has grown to be longer than the length of my hand, from my wrist to the tip of my middle finger.