Surrendering to Motherhood: Falling down and getting back up again

I'm a slow and steady runner, the kind that plods along but gets the miles done. I've avoided most running "injuries" such as sore knees, twisted ankles and significant chafing issues.

Until now.

I fell down. Twice.

I guess tripped is a better word. There I was minding my own running business, bopping along to my running playlist when my foot caught the tiniest, slightest raised edge of sidewalk and OOOOF, I tripped. This ridge in the sidewalk was so small that ants could easily travel across, no problem. But not me. Like a cartoon character I stumbled, my legs and arms pinwheeling. Bam, I landed on my right knee and right hand.

Oooowwwww, was my first reaction, plus a very aggressive swear word, the kind that starts with a F.

How embarrassing. Then looked around. Did anyone see that?

Please say no, please say no.

I got up and checked my bloodied knee. It wasn't gushing blood. I figured I was OK. I decided to walk a few blocks to calm down but after that I started to run again.

Gotta get back on the horse, I told myself. Don't let a little thing like a minor fall stop you from running. No, siree. You are a Bad Ass Mother Runner and you shall remain so.

Soon enough, my knee scabbed up and was almost healed and then guess what?

Three weeks later, I TRIPPED AGAIN.

This time I tripped on Foster Road on the chunkiest, gnarly black asphalt you've ever seen.

Even worse, I had no time to stumble before I fell.

Nope, I did a full-on Superman right onto that gritty, rough blacktop. One minute I was minding my own business, next thing, I'm flat on the ground, arms out, like I'm trying to fly. I did not fly. I belly flopped spectacularly.

Oh, that fall hurt. My other knee got skinned up this time. One hand hit ground, digging into that gravel. My arms were scratched up. I hit my chin. My phone screen protector looks like someone used it for target practice.

Many, many F-bombs were dropped.

What is WRONG with me?! Why am I tripping when I am running? I must not be picking up my feet enough. Sure, I've slowed down my running pace, but not lifting my feet WHILE RUNNING? That's a running recipe for disaster. Everyone knows you have to LIFT your feet when you RUN.

I got up and looked around, hoping again that no one witnessed my dramatic, bloody splat.

I walked a little bit and then decided I would run again - you know, that whole "get back on the horse" thing.

But I was shook up.

Back home, Mr. Huffman was sympathetic. He helped me rinse off my bloody knee and checked my chin and hands. I don't think you need stitches, he said. Just a bunch of Band-Aids.

Good. I am 100% in favor of not going to the emergency room on a Friday morning, or any morning. God forbid I interrupt my precious schedule or to-do list. Avoid. Avoid.

A few hours later, my arm started hurting. Like that one time I broke it roller skating.

I put a bag of frozen corn on it. I took some of Mr. Huffman's ibuprofen - the 800 mg tablets. Let's not waste time with 300 mg. I went straight for the "hard" stuff.

It sort of helped. That night I tried to brush my teeth and my arm told me NO, you will not bend me like that.

I took another 800 mg of ibuprofin.

Saturday morning my arm was about the same. But I was definitely NOT going to the ER.

I knew that if I did, they'd take an X-ray and either it's badly sprained or fractured. They might want to put my arm in a cast like last time and that was a real pain in the ayuss, especially with kids in grade school.

You can't shower with your arm in a cast. You can't blow dry your hair. Brushing teeth is a hassle. You can only use one arm when driving a car, or doing anything else, for that matter.

Luckily(?), it was my left arm and I am right-handed. I could still write.

That was another reason I didn't want to go to the ER. Last time I broke my arm, I had to take 6 weeks off work. Short-term disability covered a percentage of my usual paycheck, but definitely not all.

These days there is no "taking-6-weeks-off-work-while-getting-paid-any-less-than-100%-of-your-regular-paycheck." My paycheck may not be big, but every dollar of it counts.

It's been two weeks and my arm still hurts, although it's getting a little bit better. My colorful bruises make for a good show-and-tell story.

I haven't started running again. Yet.

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