You'd think that I was quoting a song with a title like that. But no, I just keep falling, literally.
Clumsiness is just a way of life for some.
When I was a child, I often stubbed my toe on the bookcase. Now, this bookcase didn't move. It was in the same spot for over three years. Yet, every morning, I misjudged the distance and hurt my favorite toe (admit it, you have a favorite too). I'd howl in pain, wake up my family, kick the bookcase and hurt my other favorite toe (admit it, you have two favorites too).
As I got older, my family just adapted to my awkwardness. Sharp objects were kept away, paid more attention to doorways, curbs were painted in red, and bookcases finally got moved. (After three years. Seriously, it took them three years to move the damn thing). And falling became a rarity.
I think I became more agile too. When you catch your toe on a sidewalk, or not quite hit a step, your body does that funky-redistribute-weight-quickly-shift-foot-to-catch-self- dance and you somehow manage to stay upright. It's kinda magical when you think about all the effort that goes into that one moment. And I was mastering it.
Until last week.
I was running (somehow all my physically tragic things happen while running) and my shoe caught on the sidewalk. At least I like to think it did. There is no actual proof that the crack caused me to stumble but I really don't want to believe that I fell to my near death over nothing. It would be like gaining weight from eating a salad or spending money on bad chocolate. Pointless and just hurtful. So, the crack had to be there. It had to be, dammit!
And it's funny how everything slows down in that moment as you are falling to your certain death. You notice the white minivan going by and wonder if he'll help, you hear the bird chirping in the tree, the feel of the air as the wind gets knocked of you and the odd sensation of bouncing on a sidewalk.
Yup. You read that right. I bounced. My kneecaps hit the pavement and I bounced. I didn't even know the human body could do that on pavement. I began to wonder if all parts of the body bounced or only kneecaps. If I landed right, would my elbows bounce? My head? Do people who fall from greater heights bounce more? Are fatty areas more bouncable? (a new word. It's catching on, trust me) And if so, should I try to do a twist to land on my backside when going down?
Of course, the post bounce is always bad. There's no way that the human body can bounce and get a 10 on final landing. A solid 7 perhaps, but not a 10. (Unless you're a gymnast and then the rules of physics don't apply anymore. Part of the same sorcery that keeps those women petite and in the air for so long. They do an initiation where they blood swear off gravity...It's true, I've read about it)
After inspecting the road rash on the palms of my hands and knees, I decided it was best to walk the rest of the way home. And being my life, I was at the furthest part away from my house when I fell, so I had the entire walk back to my house.
It should be noted that I was in a good running groove when I went down. It was slightly down hill, I had a tailwind (that's really a thing for runners....weird, huh?) and I was starting to get a runner's high. And then I crashed which gave me an extra jot of adrenaline. Thus, walking home, I was shaking, shaking and wanting to run so badly.
Which probably means I hit my head.
But I walked, and walked, and walked until I was about 1/4 mile from my house. And all the adrenaline and runner's high endorphines wore off and suddenly, I hurt. I was stiff, I was sore and I had road rash and I walked a mile and a half and I was angry and irritated and I realized as I walked up my stairs that I could have called an Uber.
Yup, I'm pretty sure I hit my head.
