Let’s take inventory.
The heals of both hands scraped raw, instruments used to break each fall.
A right knee bruise. Severity? Somewhere on a continuum between Deep and below the surface. We’ll know for sure in the morning.
We are a self-correcting, self-learning being, right? Otherwise we wouldn’t be standing, breathing, and reading this, Right?
Adam, in his hunt for food for Eve and the kids, after falling face-first the first time, said, hmmmm, that didn’t feel good. That didn’t work out. Let’s not do that again.
24° F. It’s the first snow of the season and I’m prepping.
Underwear. Thermal Underwear. Thermal Socks. Thermal undershirt. Wicking overshirt. Heavy Down coat. Tuke. Gloves. Fanny Pack with bottle of water, smartphone and headphones.
I catch a glimpse of this package in the mirror before stepping into the garage. Holy Sh*t. Sasquatch.
I pull on Ugg Boots, two pound leg weights strapped on each foot. Who runs in snow in Ugg Boots?
A flat surface, I’m caught by surprise. An ice patch. The legs fly out. I fall heavily on left side, air gushes out of the belly, which is still jiggling. I roll on my back. Where’s my smartphone? Right pocket please. Right.
A steep incline. Uggs are crampon-less. Right leg slides out. Left leg follows, and a tumble down a short embankment. I’m covered in a mixture of snow, leaves and dirt. Camouflage. Military drills. No, more like Carl Spackler the greenskeeper on Caddyshack: “They’re like the Viet-Cong…Varmint-Cong. So you have to fall back on superior firepower and superior intelligence. And that’s all she wrote.”
A steep decline. My right toe, the UGG-Cap, clips a stone, the left foot desperately stretches to find a firm footing – and instead, crashes through the soft snow and lands on several inches of wet leaves. Think three meter springboard. I’m airborne – hands are out to brace impact – lightly child, lightly – stones find the fatty flesh of the palms of both hands.
It’s the Last Mile, short of the mileage target planned for the morning run, but it’s over and I’m looping back to the car. My head is down, my eyes are locked on the snow covered trail, hopelessly searching for protruding dangers. Sweat spills out from under the Tuke – the rad is overheating from the heavy clothing, the heavy boots.
The Final fall.
I see the rock, a threatening hump covered in snow. I lift my right foot to clear it – I fail. You’ve got to be f**king kidding me. I crumple on the path at the entrance of the park.
“Hey, do you need some help?”
I look up, grimacing: “No thanks. I’m OK.” What kind of ass*ole can’t clear a 4″ stone. I let him pass and let the humiliation burn off before getting up.
I’m standing in the shower, steam fills the bath, and the eyes are closed…and I squeeze the right foot, the left foot, and then each leg, the arms and then the chest. Body aches feel good.
Gotta get this body rested.
We’re going at it again tomorrow.