This morning I had to stop on the way to work to buy some bandaids. This was somewhat humorous for me, because I had a conversation a few days ago about how when you run out of bandaids, you never remember to buy more until you really needed them. And thanks to an unfortunate run-in with a broken plastic storage tub last week, I found myself bandaidless.
The real question, I suppose, is why I needed the bandaids in the first place. So I'll tell you. I like to call this story Why You Shouldn't Go Running on Monday Mornings.
This morning I rolled out of bed and still half asleep, began what was supposed to be a nice, liesurely jog. Barely a half a mile into my run, a combination of sleepiness, lack of attention, and uneven pavement led to quite the face plant on the concrete. It was one of those moments when I swear the world turned to slow-mo for a minute; I had plenty of time to anticipate my collision with the pavement after feeling my foot catch on a raised portion of sidewalk. In reality, the whole thing happened in mere seconds, but it definitely didn't feel that way.
After sending a disgruntled Seriously?? to the cosmos, I gingerly peeled myself off the ground and assessed my injuries. I somehow managed to bruise the palm of my right hand AND scrape up the back of the same hand. Not sure exactly how that happened. My right elbow was the bloodiest (and the main reason I needed the bandaids) and feels pretty tender. I'm also sporting some pretty impressive bruising on my right hip and left knee. My phone case took a bit of a beating too (I was holding my phone when I fell—I really need to get an armband), but luckily my actual phone is a-ok.
At this point, I seriously considered just going back home to nurse my "wounds." But then I realized that I was being completely ridiculous and that I was still 100% capable of finishing my run, even if I am embarrassingly clumsy. So I kept going, and needless to say, I was definitely awake from that point on.
So yeah. That's why you shouldn't go on runs on Monday mornings. Or maybe why I should pay more attention to where I'm running. Or maybe why I should find a way to be less accident prone.
But to keep from feeling sorry for myself, let's play a game of It Could Have Been Worse.
1. Somebody could have seen me trip. (I realize I'm telling the whole story, but I find telling the story rather funny; I would have found it significantly less funny if somebody had witnessed my ever-so-graceful fall and seen me sprawled on the concrete.)
2. I could have been wearing shorts and a t-shirt, in which case I'm sure I would have needed more bandaids than I did. This is the only time I've ever been grateful that it was cold when I went for a run, and it will probably be the last. (Also, I'm still trying to figure out how my elbow got so scraped up when I was wearing long sleeves and the sleeve of my jacket was left completely unharmed.)
3. My phone could have gotten smashed. I will need to get a new phone soonish (mine is seriously struggling), but I don't quite have the cha-ching that will take just yet.
4. [Vanity speaking here] I could have landed on my face. Just think of the scarring/bruising/breaking of the nose that could have resulted in.
5. I could have sustained an injury that would slow down/halt my 10K training.
6. A rabid wolf could have emerged from the backyard of one of the nearby houses while I was on the ground and bitten me. (Thank goodness for Michael Scott's Dunder Mifflin Scranton Meredith Palmer Celebrity Rabies Awareness Pro-Am Fun Run Race for the Cure, amiright?)
And that's where I stop myself before I get ridiculous.
Moral of the Story: Sometimes unfortunate things happen when you're trying to do good things, but you just gotta laugh it off and buy some OJ when you pick up first-aid supplies, and then everything will be okay.
Happy Monday, folks. May your body stay in the upright position except for when you choose to lay down.
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