Last fall I was out for a jog on Seymour Street and I fell on my face.
I literally fell on my face: I hit my mouth on the sidewalk and cut up the inside of my lip and broke a few teeth. About two weeks after that, I was walking through a parking lot and I fell and skinned both knees.
My teeth ended up not falling out, which is a great relief, and my knees are fine. The bigger issue has ended up being the fact that I’m scared to run anywhere anymore. I rarely even hurry, because I always think I’m going to fall and break something. It even makes me nervous when I see other people running. (I’m looking at you, Nicole.)
I never was a fast runner, but at least I was out there. It was really my only way to exercise, and now I’m right out of luck. I’ve had a very sedentary last nine months: not sustainable in the long term. I’ve actually been surprised at how much it bothers me not to have the option to run at least a little bit. So lately I’ve been trying to run on the track. My thinking here is that there’s very little for me to trip over, and if I fall, it’s softer than cement. (I actually walk to the track, four houses away, and then run, because I do not trust sidewalks.) Good lord, it is boring! I am counting the minutes the entire time. I’m also slower than ever and I feel like an old person, but at least it’s something. Also on the plus side, the view from the Middlebury College track is lovely.
When I was 29, I ran a marathon just to prove to myself that I could. I had thought a little bit about trying to run another one next year at 39. Clearly, that’s not going to happen, but I guess I have to start somewhere. Even if it means running slowly in circles.