Unfortunately, this post is unofficially sponsored by Band Aid and bitterness.
Falling while running is an art I’ve mastered. I have scars covering my entire body honoring my clumsiness. While I’ve never wanted tattoos, it seems that nature had other plans and took care of that for me. My most recent fall landed me in the emergency room with stitches I was promised would leave a nice, permanent design on my knee.
As a side note, if you’ve never had a chance to see the bone of your knee cap, I’d mark it as an experience you should pass up.
This fall was so bad that I was continually asked if I was riding a bike when it happened. No, I kept telling them, this amazing feat of destruction was a result of only my own two feet and a poorly placed speed bump. I try to give 100% of my effort in everything that I do, and I guess falling while running is unfortunately included in that.
As another side note, this is what I was looking at right before I fell. I think it’s fair to blame the beauty of the universe on this one. Mother Nature, expect a call from me this week. How dare you be so beautiful and distracting? So rude.
During my most recent fall that introduced my knee cap bone to the outside world, I had one of those Matrix-like moments where time stops. I’ve never seen the Matrix, but everyone who gasps in disbelief when I tell them that tells me there’s some trippy time-stopping magic going on. Anyway, please imagine me as Keanu Reeves for the remainder of this post. In reality, I looked much more like this:
Given how often I fall while running, I’ve noticed a pattern. During that split second when I’m midair, before I skid my bare skin across the rockiest road in town, there are a few things that consistently flow through my mind. Believe me, I’ve done it enough times to have a solid pile of evidence by now. I’m not going to assume you’re as lucky as I am to have experienced the joy of falling while running as often as I have so, here’s a sampling of what you could expect.
Thought 1: Really?! Again?!
I think it’s time I have a chat with the universe and explain that I’ve met my lifetime quota for falls while running and that I should get a free pass for the rest of my years on Earth. As you can see, falling was already such a norm even when I was a kid that someone was actually prepared to catch the moment with a camera. That’s not right. That’s too much falling. Universe, take note.
The problem with falling while running is that it’s a vicious cycle. The more I fall, the more I worry about falling, which makes me fall even more. While my list of falls is long, my list of almost falls is even longer. You know those moments when you trip while you’re walking and you end up jogging a few steps as though you meant to do that all along? Well, I do that about three times during every run. The problem is that I’m already running, so it looks like I’m trying a new sprinting technique that includes bug-eyes and wildly flailing arms. I swear, it’s the latest training style.
Thought 2: Did I Really Just Trip Over That?
Whenever I fall while running, people assume I fell down a mountain, was tripped by an opossum, or tried to scale a redwood tree. While I’d love for this to be true, my falling expertise lies in the realms of small tree roots, speed bumps, cracks in the sidewalk, and nothingness. Yes, there have been times I’ve tripped and stopped to stare at the road around me trying to find something, anything, to blame. Even the people that see me fall are amazed by how much damage a whole lot of nothing can do. The woman who stopped to help me during my most recent fall went from a casual good Samaritan to a full on emergency responder once she saw what a simple speed bump did to me.
The doctor in the emergency room told me that I should lay off scrambling up mountains until my knee recovers. Excuse me, but I just landed in the emergency room because of a speed bump. Imagine what would happen if I decided to run up a mountain. I think I’ll leave that to the American Ninja Warriors, or about anyone else with even an ounce more coordination than I have.
Thought 3: S%#&*@#$H&*#@#*&
If you know me, you know that I rarely ever swear. In my mind, there are few situations that can’t be summed up with a good, “gosh darn it.” If you hear me swear, you can assume the situation is either really bad, or I just ran out of peanut butter. I’m also saving all of my swearing for the eventual cancelation of Survivor, as that will be a very sad day. Injury is a rare exception to this rule.
Every good fall deserves a good helping of swearing. In fact, there’s research about how expletives can reduce pain. Usually this applies after the fact, but, I like to take a more proactive approach. I like to swear in that final half second before I hit the road in the hopes that some pre-swearing will act as a pain shield and turn me into Violet Beauregarde when she puffs up into a blueberry in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. That way I can just roll down the road to the emergency room for deflation instead of stitches. It usually doesn’t work, but it’s always worth a try.
Thought 4: I Hope I Don’t Rip My Clothes
You would think I would be concerned about my skin in the final moments before a fall, but humans are notoriously illogical. Well, I am at least. There’s a reason that a majority of my running clothes consist of hand-me-downs and old tank tops. Who wants to be wearing a $60 pair of Nike shorts when they go skidding down the road? I love these Nike shorts though, so I do risk wearing them on occasion.
CHECK OUT ANOTHER GREAT POST FROM BTA
On a side note, I don’t understand expensive running clothes to begin with. Why do I want to spend money on a fancy outfit just so that I can sweat in it? On top of that, I usually head out for my run right after getting out of bed. Are the fancy clothes meant to be a distraction from my crazy hair, mismatched socks, and puffy and half-closed eyes? That shirt pictured on the left is darn cute, but even that pattern is no match for the chaos that is my face when I wake up in the morning. There’s nothing that can distract from that. Alright, back to the point.
The amazing thing about the human body is that it repairs itself. Yes, it’s painful and messy, but it is a fairly efficient and effective repair factory. My clothes are less self-sustaining. No matter how much I love my t-shirts and shorts, love alone won’t fix them, and I’d be hard-pressed to pull out a sewing machine to patch them up myself. Once they’re ripped, they’re gone forever. Again, I realize this is crazy, but we tend to think crazy things in the split second before falling. I’m just telling it like it is.
Thought 5: Save the face!
When I was a kid, my family went to an amusement park that had a rafting ride that was determined to soak us. Despite having our cameras, wallets, bags, and jackets in the raft with us, all the focus was on the leftover chicken we had just packed up from the restaurant at lunch. “Save the chicken,” we yelled, as our boat splashed through rapids and floated under waterfalls. While misguided, we knew our priorities.
Now, the instinct to protect my face and head is probably the only logical thing I consistently think about in that split second before falling during a run. As we all know, falling is a bad thing. But, falling on your face is a really bad thing. During my latest fall, I managed to scrape up every part of my body from my ankle to the top of my shoulder. But, when the doctor asked me if I had hit my head, I proudly said no. In my history of falling, I have yet to even scratch my face or my flowing golden locks.
This is no accident. As you can tell from the length of this post, even a split second is enough time to think a boat load of thoughts. So, here’s some advice from one falling runner to another. In that last moment before you hit the ground, organize your priorities and plan the way you’re going to fall. For me, this often results in a skid and roll technique. While not ideal (no fall ever will be), it lets me protect my first priority—my precious noggin.
If you’ve read any of my books, you know how much I value priorities. They are the building blocks of success, as they allow us to hone in on what’s most important to us. The problem with falling is that you often have more than one priority, and it’s nearly impossible to give each one of them the respect they deserve. While I’m glad I didn’t land on my face, if I could go back, I would have avoided falling directly on my kneecap as well. But, unlike the Matrix, I didn’t have time to stop and analyze every option.
In that split second before you fall, you will likely only have time to save one body part. You’ll have to leave the rest to chance. Let’s hope that chance is on your side.
No one ever wants to fall while running. It’s frustrating to have something you love cause you pain. But, that’s life. I’ve learned in my short years on this planet that anything worth loving is also worth enduring pain to pursue. Whether it be relationships, dreams, careers, or running goals, we learn what’s worth falling down for in the hopes of getting up stronger, wiser, and better prepared for the next obstacle. To eliminate the risk of falling would be to eliminate the opportunity for growth. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather take the risk. Do you have a falling story? Share it with us in the comments below!
You can also read more from me at The Sensory Toolbox.