Stumble stumble fall

I ran today in the park. I fell. I haven't fallen in over a year!

Someone was riding her horse on the running path instead of the bridle path, which made me cut to the side kind of fast to avoid the horse. I startled the horse and it sidestepped, which startled me, and somewhere in the mix my toe caught on a tree root and I stumbled forward about ten feet before losing my balance and tumbling to the ground. I did a tuck-and-roll, like in the movies, which seems to work pretty well for me. I used to fall a lot.

I used to fall often because my knees weren't strong, so I didn't pick up my feet high enough. Combined with the gnarled root systems of the live oak trees in Audubon Park, I got pretty good at falling. Work with the gravity, not against it. Brace with the arm farthest from the ground and curl the other one into your body. Try and distribute the surface area of your body along the ground to better absorb the impact. Roll onto your back. Check for breaks, blood and bruising. If none, refuse help. "Nothing damaged but my pride!" became my cheerful mantra in response to concerns of passers-by.

Never have I been seriously hurt by a fall, other than a minor fracture of the pinky finger during high school (knock on wood). I always get up, dust myself off, laugh a bit and keep running with a big grin on my face. People always seem to be amazed by this, but really what's a few scrapes and bumps? When you're three (or four, or six...) miles away from where you're going you may as well get there as fast as you can anyway, right? Why let a little tumble take the fun out of my workout?

I have a secret.

There is always a delayed reaction.

Today I got up, dusted off, laughed and grinned, then dashed forward. About a mile later I burst into tears. This is totally normal, and it's what I expect when I fall. I couldn't breathe. I had to stop, wheezing and sobbing. I was embarrassed about falling. I was angry at the horse's stupid rider for riding on the wrong trail. I was full of adrenaline, covered in dirt, pigtails all messed up, blinded by tears, unable to breathe and then all the stupid no-good horrible emotions I've been having recently surged up through it all like a shot out of a cannon. I crouched down on the grass, hugging my knees and gasping for air and squeezing my eyes shut, trying desperately to calm down, to get the rhythm of my breathing back to normal. I was far enough off the trail that nobody stopped to bother me. It would have made it worse anyway.

It really only took a minute or two, but after that I was fine. It's just the extra adrenaline that pushes me over the edge, I think. I got back up, dusted off again, wiped the tears from my face and pushed on for another two miles. By the time I dashed through the gate in front of my building I was cheerfully humming to myself. I felt better. Cleansed.

Taking a little tumble isn't really so bad. It reminds me that I'm not invincible and that there's really no point in pretending that I am. It reminds me that difficult things happen as a matter of fact, and that I'm tough enough to come out of it okay. The uncontrollable tears remind me that it's important to deal with the resulting emotions so that I can move on.

So, today's lessons: Tuck and roll - take the bad in stride with the good. Pick myself up and keep going. Sort through my negative feelings before they catch up with me and make things worse. Don't expect horseback riders to use their own goddamn path. Track cinders and sunscreen do not taste good together.