This is my left knee. I know…sexy as hell, right?
This morning, while out walking Midas, I took a full-on digger. Think entire body, face down, splashed along the left hand side of the road. Not only was it one of the ugliest things I have ever done in public…but it bruised my ego and beat the left side of my body to sh*t.
Here’s how the event unfolded:
I walked today because my IT band has been bothering me.
So I’m trotting along, minding my own damn business, rocking out to Olly Murs song Troublemaker. The song should have been my first clue…
Anyhoo…when Midas and I hit the summit, I notice two people, with two outrageously large dogs, walking towards us. I’m not kidding when I say BIG, the black lab on their end had to be a cross between a f*ing bear and a Great Dane. (Probably close to 150 pounds.)
So of course, when Midas sees them, he goes bat sh*t. (As does the black lab.) Both dogs are thrashing around trying to reach each other in hopes one will be crowned the life-long-champion-of-all-things-dog-fight in the Rocky Mountain Region. About the time Midas tries to yank my arm out of its ever-lovin’ socket for the 12th time, I get the brilliant idea to try and distract him.
As if he’s not already distracted, right?
So I start to jog. I probably make it 7 or 8 steps. The next thing I know, I’m face down on the concrete thinking, “WTF?” and I no longer have Midas’s leash in my hand.
All the while, Little Big Town’s song Boondocks is blasting in my ears. I’m rockin’ my Victoria Secret hot pink sweat pants. And hell yes, I have my Cat Hat on. For a brief moment, it was hard enough to remember where I was, let alone that I needed to get my freakin’ dog back under control.
A few seconds later, I crawl, on all fours, and snag Midas’s leash. (Thank you Jesus.) The couple, and their two beastly dogs, press on.
I sat curbside for a few minutes to make sure I didn’t break a bone. Or shatter my knee cap. (I didn’t.) Once I felt I was in the clear, I got up and we too pressed on.
I then cried my a** off for two solid blocks.
Yes, my body hurt. So did my pride. Having your a** in the air in your hot pink pajama pants in front of your neighbors is not hot. But that’s not why I cried. I sobbed because in that moment, I felt out of control. I couldn’t control my legs. I couldn’t control my dog. It also dawned on me that truthfully, there really isn’t that much in this life that you CAN control. (I’m seeing a pattern here. I may have control issues…lol.)
It didn’t take me long to get over myself. (I’m okay…no need to worry.)
But post face-plant, I’ve had a few revelations:
- My entire running career, (if you can call it a freakin’ career), I’ve been afraid to fall. I was worried I’d fall running sprints last week at Red Rocks. I walked a half mile at the end of my marathon because I was positive I’d take a digger. Now I know. Falling down freakin’ sucks — but it won’t kill you. (So glad to have THAT out of the way.)
- The fastest way to stop whining about your IT band is to plow head first into concrete. Give it a go…that sh*t works.
Today’s event will be filed away in my damn bad plan folder.
It will also be placed at the top of my darn good to know list.
P.S. Have you ever taken a digger on the run? (Or walk?!?) Come over and share your story…I’ll lament with you! https://www.facebook.com/BrooksFirstMarathon
P.S.S. Dozens of you have inquired about getting access to the unedited footage of my marathon finish line video — click here for VIP access.
P.P.S.S. I love this quote from Jim Rohn: “Don’t wish it were easier. Wish you were better.” A-freakin’-men.