I'd brought cold weather gear, and was loving this run. A deer bounced onto the trail ahead of me and we ran together for about a quarter mile. Flocks of geese decorated lawns and fields. The sun was rising picturesquely under high, puffy clouds in a deep azure sky. I was in a jogger's groove.

Until, that is, somewhere around mile 3, my right foot caught a heaved section of subdivision sidewalk, at full stretch. I was on the concrete so fast - and hard - I almost didn't have time to put a hand out. My left side took almost the full consequences of some straightforward classical physics.

I got up and jogged the mile and a half or so back to the hotel, feeling stupid and sporting a couple of raspberries. There was a hitch in my side, but no big deal. When I walked into the lobby, the look on a guy's face caused me to look down: a couple of scraped knuckles had managed to spray enough blood on my white windbreaker that I looked like an extra on a horror-flick set, and a tear in my jogging tights revealed a skinned and bleeding knee. Oops.

But, I felt like I'd gotten off easy: in 30 years of running, I confess I've fallen more than once, and previous episodes have required doctor visits and physical therapy. That was, until later that day, when I stood up after a 3-hour meeting, and felt a sharp pain in my my left hand side. Ribs. Ouch. Haven't been able to run since, but I can walk... rib injuries are the pits in my experience: nothing to do but wait until they heal...
Comments 8:28:28 PM    

Chris Gulker's view from Silicon Valley - in words and pictures