Those of you who run with me regularly know that I am a bit accident prone. I've had some pretty spectacular falls, complete with blood and big scars and more blood.
Katie Famous's post about contact sports reminded me that, for some people (like me), running can also be a contact sport. Contact with the ground, that is.
Today while attempting a short, slow run on the icy sidewalks in Boston, I fell hard on some ice-y cement on that ramp that connects the Boston Common to the River at Beacon and Arlington. It was like a scene from a cartoon - my legs just totally gave out, and I hit the ice hard on my tush. Usually, the pain dulls after awhile, but no such luck this time. I winced my way through another slooooow mile or so, feeling my bum bruise up in the process. Ouch. It still hurts quite a bit.
I really can't wait for spring. Enough with this silly groundhog and the ice-covered sidewalks and -15 degree windchills and purple-numb fingers. Even though I know my clutziness was the prime reason I fell down today, I'll continue to blame the cold weather and ice and wind and crappy Boston weather. Running really shouldn't be a contact sport, you know.
*megha the clutz
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