Confessions of a Klutz

In the past five months or so since I last posted I have been running, but nothing much to brag about. Last week, though, I took a newsworthy tumble on the Bloomington Rails to Trail, just past a sign that said "Danger: Falling Rocks." I made it past all the rocks (none of which were falling, just a few nicely placed below a bridge), all proud of myself for staying upright when my right ankle nipped a leaf-covered root and I flew forward, landing on my right elbow. Life lesson No. 7,349 learned from running: Don't be cocky about making it past the big boulders because it's the little things that will trip you up when you least expect it.

Mud-covered and moaning I got back up and decided the fastest way back to my car was to run, so I did. When I got there I realized my elbow was really bleeding, so I high-tailed it back to my apartment and took a shower and tried to clean up the wound. It wasn't very big, but I couldn't get the dirt out.

So I did what any clueless person would do and took a picture of my elbow in the bathroom mirror using my iPhone and emailed it to my friend, Anne, and asked her what to do. As a mother of two I consider her the world's foremost non-physician medical expert on injuries and illness. The fact that she is British makes her seem extra smart as well. After getting her response saying I should probably have it checked out, and then making and eating a bowl of banana-pumpkin-cinnamon oatmeal with peanut butter and some coffee, I went to PromptCare.

Nice folks at PromtCare, but it is anything but Prompt. After two hours I came out with a tetanus shot, most of the skin scrubbed off of my elbow with a plastic torture brush, two stitches, a slightly blue and slightly swollen but not broken ankle, and a bandage around my arm that was supposed to keep me from bending it.

This was a fairly minor incident - a bum ankle and two stitches - but unlike previous

falls, I at least had some evidence that I was in pain. When I flew over the handlebars on my bike and landed on my bum, nobody saw that bruise. They just wondered why I walked around like I had a plunger stuck up my butt for the next three weeks. When I fell two years ago and landed on some rocks on a trail in Dean Wilderness, nobody could tell that every breath was another knife stabbing into my lungs thanks to the broken ribs. On my long list of self-inflicted accidents this one rates at the top for sympathy received and speedy recovery. I would recommend it to all the other running klutzes out there, at least over most of the alternative injuries.

By Saturday (three days post-fall) I was able to run again. I participated in the 10th annual Hoosiers Outrun Cancer event and ran faster than I thought I would in the 5k given I had taken the last two days off and have been doing a lot of long slow base-building work. HOC is one of my favorite road races because the greater-Bloomington community is so involved and the money goes to a great cause. The day started out cloudy and grey but the skies opened up, as if a lot of people were looking down from above on the group of runners, walkers, volunteers and supporters. I stopped by the Rebound Physical Therapy tent in hopes of seeing some of my physical therapists friends so I could show them my cool stitches and regale them with another tale of my running tribulations. But alas, Rebound sent one of the very few people I don't actually know from that operation. So I walked back to my apartment and ate some lunch. And that's the not-so-exciting update from here.

Stride on, friends.