So Embarrassing

I got a little cocky on a run a couple weeks ago and paid for it in spades. My 3-milers had become slightly less painful, especially since I figured out to pop a couple ibuprofen the moment I stagger in the door to trick my knees into thinking they just went on a joy ride.

So one Sunday, when the heat index was past the point of flirting and was in a committed relationship with over 100 degrees, some time opened up in our schedule and John suggested I use it to go for a run. I went, mostly because there was this eensy yet influential part of me that needed to be a little hard-core; something I haven't experienced in awhile.

I was about 1/2-mile into this gig and decided I would try to go longer and do one of our 4-mile routes. That decision is an example of what happens when I allow siblings Silly and Irrational to drive.

Regardless of my misery starting around mile 3, what happened in that last mile was a classic Kitty move.

I was running down a favorite street in our area, comparing houses and wondering what some particularly well-done ones of the newer-construction-type were like inside, when I glanced backwards (why??), my right foot hit a surprise slope of a driveway and I had an immediate and painful investigation of some local concrete.

Three Thoughts on the Trip Down:

1. Aww Man! I am too old to fall publicly.
2. Protect the ring. I always sacrifice the hand for the sake of the engagement ring.
3. John always tells me to "roll into the fall", so maybe I should try that and put my shoulder into it. (this was not executed properly)

The result of my conceit in thinking I should crank out a run in nasty temps:

All kinds of ugly.

Like how the twig is in focus as opposed to my knee?

And so there I was, sprawled awkwardly out in some one's driveway. This was a bad one. My shoulder was killing me, my knees were killing me, I had to go to the bathroom, and I was still 3/4-mile from home.

What does one do in that situation? Pop up as quickly as possible and act like what just happened was not a big deal.

I tell you what though, the bairn were super impressed with my wounds. They asked if I cried (I did not). They asked why I did not get a Curious George or Cars band-aid (they don't make cool band aids big enough for this one). They asked over and over and over again why I fell (and I told them over and over and over again I did not know why). They asked why I was walking around the house with bags of ice bound to my knees with ace bandages (because I have 5 little crumbgobblers, that's why).

Won't be running that route again for awhile.