Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Black Ice

I run in the mornings. In my past life, I ran marathons. Running is a passion. Running makes me feel good. It’s when I can ignore life or embrace it. It’s what I do. So even in the dead of winter, I run. Every day. Okay…not EVERY day. But almost. 3-4 days a week. And usually once on the weekends. But I run.

So I was out running yesterday morning. Almost done with my 3-mile run, I turned a corner. As I turned, I felt one foot, the foot with imbalanced weight on it as I leaned into the turn, the foot placed precariously at an angle as I went around the bend, felt it begin to slide slip slide out from underneath me. I landed with a loud ass crack right on my hip bone.

“OWWW!” I yelled out at the top of my F*#ing lungs, SO proud of not yelling out the stream of freaking obscenities that were desperately fighting to be let out. I slammed my fist into the concrete to keep them in. And yes, of COURSE this helped. Who are you to question my tactics? You weren’t there.

Now with knuckles pounding as hard as my hip, I try to gather my feet under me well enough to stand when I hear the voice of an old man, “You all right?”

Hm, good thing I didn’t swear after all. See that, self control does pay off. “Fine,” I yell back, “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“I saw you go down, I was afraid you’d broken something. You sure you didn’t break anything?”

“No, I’m fine, nothing broken.”

“All right, if you’re sure you didn’t break anything…you sure you’re all right?”

OH MY GOD. “I’m fine, I’m sure.”

“There’s just a little patch of ice right there. Just right at that corner there. You can barely see it.”

“Yeah, I noticed…thanks.” Telling myself, he’s a neighbor, a neighbor, a neighbor. Hold the sarcasm, you can do it! You can!
“Just real thin, just right at the corner.”

OH GEEZ. “Uh huh, I figured that out already.” Trying to smile, trying to make it playful…but just shut the hell up while I’m still managing.

“Bet you’ll take that corner tighter next time.” He laughed. Laughing at me?

I have to get myself out of here before a non-neighborly side of Penney shows up. I sucked in my breath and pushed up on my pounding knuckles.

“If it makes ya feel better, ya looked real graceful doin’ it. Real graceful. Reeeeal pretty.” The old man was yelling behind me. Oh, who am I kidding, he was still in front of me. My steps were about two inches wide. I resisted the urge to flip him off.

“Yeah, thanks, that makes me feel a LOT better.” My eyes rolled despite the voice in my head demanding that they stay still for ONCE.

As I limped away I thought to myself, take that corner wider next time? Yeah right. That would require fore-thought. When I’m running, I don’t think about RUNNING. I’m thinking a million other things. My mind is nowhere near that corner of lawn, nowhere near that black ice.

Think ahead, my ass.

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