Thursday afternoon, I decided to take Lucy with me on a run. I'd walked with her, but hadn't taken her runnning yet. I couldn't find one of my running shoes, so I decided to wear those stupid shape-up shoes, or whatever they're called. The ones which are supposed to make your butt firm. The soles are rounded, which makes you use more muscles to maintain your balance, hence, firming your nether regions. I should've known better, since I'm deficient in the balance department to start with. But it hasn't benefitted my gluts, as far as I can tell.
So, we headed out on my usual route around the neighborhood. Lucy's pretty good about staying with me, unless she sees a squirrel. Even though she's small, she's strong and can really pull hard on the leash. But it wasn't her fault. It was the shoes. I was happily running along, listening to Whole Lotta Love on my MP3, and enjoying the incredibly beautiful day. It was so warm that I wore shorts and a sleeveless top. Which contributed to the severity of my abrasions. That, and the fact that the section of sidewalk I encountered was the kind with pea gravel embedded in it. For no apparent reason, I tripped and fell. It was a total face-plant. My second one in recent history. The other one was from falling off my bike on the Green Line.
It's weird how it feels when I fall. All of a sudden, I'm in slow motion. First I'm trying to keep from falling. Then, as my knee hits the pavement, I'm thinking of protecting my face and head. I felt my hip hit next, and then my shoulder, and last, my face. My cheek and brow bones, specifically. Thankfully, I have a prominent chin, because otherwise, I would've lost my teeth long ago. My worst nightmare. In fact, in my Green Line accident, my chin took the brunt of the fall. My helmet protected the rest of my face, judging by the scrapes on it. I'm thinking I should wear a helmet and mouthguard whenever I do anything remotely athletic. I have started wearing a hardhat when I go in my attic.
Finally, I finished falling. I lay there for a minute, stunned. Lucy was still on her leash, which was on my wrist. I slowly got back to my feet and assessed the damage. My knee was bloody. My hip hurt. My teeth were ok. My cheek felt pretty messed up. I looked at my hand, and it just had a couple scrapes. I looked around to see if anyone was watching, but I didn't see anyone. I started walking back home. I even ran a little. I was glad I hadn't sprained any of my lower extremities. When I walked in the front door, I told The Daddler not to be alarmed, because I'd fallen. I didn't want to scare him, and I was pretty sure I was scary looking. He checked me out, said I was ok, and issued the following edict: "He ain't goin' with you no more." He always refers to her as "he" or "him." I explained that it wasn't Lucy's fault, but he said he knew how he does, because he walks with him every day. She does go nuts when she sees a squirrel, but she can't help that. And there wasn't a squirrel around when I took my little spill. Hey, if there had been, would it have been my "scape-squirrel?" I kinda like that. I wonder if scape-goat refers to the animal which came along just in time to take Isaac's place on the chopping block. Seems like it was a ram. TTTGI. Too Tired To Google It.
Speaking of being too tired, I really am. Too tired to blog any more. I'll tell the rest of the gory story tomorrow. For now, I'll just tell you that I'm scheduled for surgery Thursday. Gotta get some pins put in. Ugh.
All for now. Good night.
No comments:
Post a Comment