Wipeout at the Golf Course.

It’s only because I like making people laugh that I am going to tell this story, because, quite frankly, it’s embarrassing.

Once every other year or so, I make it a point to fall ridiculously while running. I did it last night. Yep. BIG FAT FALL. It hurt. It drew blood. It was really really REALLY embarrassing… here goes…

Running is nothing new for me. I usually run about 3 miles at a time… but when something is bothering me, or I’m frustrated, or really upset… I usually up it to 5 or 6. Running clears my mind, makes me a happier person, relieves stress, etc. Now that I live in Nashville, my six mile run covers Sylvan Park, and the trail running behind/through McCabe Golf Course. Last night… I had trucked it through Sylvan Park listening to Paramore… good angry/stress relief music. I passed a good friend driving by… so that was happy. The weather was gorgeous. I wasn’t tired. My legs weren’t achy. I was still breathing pretty normally. I was at about mile 3. I got on the trail… was admiring all of the pretty flowers and full trees and nice breeze. I was watching the golfers and passing dog-walkers. Everything was dandy. On this particular trail, there are three or four wooden bridges that cross the creek in different places. Yep. This is where everything starts to crumble around me. As I am watching a man get REALLY pissed off because he totally swung his club and missed the ball completely, I place one foot on the bridge and am about to take step two when, in slow motion, I realize that I didn’t lift my foot high enough and that the particular board that I am about to step on has warped and is creating a massive bump. Yep. You guessed it. Foot meets board. Wooden bridge meets my hand, knees, elbow, iPod… actually pretty much all of me because I was running full speed ahead… meaning, I went flying across the bridge full speed ahead… and BECAUSE it’s a bridge, and hollow underneath… my fall made a sound like an explosion. Yep. Everything froze. People stopped mid-swing, turned and looked at me in a heap, trying to fall off the bridge into the water before anyone noticed.

Did anyone stop and ask if I was ok? Nope. Did people laugh? Most likely. What did I do? Sat down, did a quick check to make sure blood wasn’t running down my legs/arms/face/side, stretched, held back tears because I was already mad… hence the 6 mile run… got up… and kept trucking. At about mile 5, I thought about it because my body felt like I had knocked it out of alignment, and started laughing. I mean, REALLY laughing. I laughed the whole way home, which brings me to another point… People driving along West End Avenue probably were calling local psychiatric hospitals wondering if they were missing a patient. I mean, really? What would you think if you saw a girl running down West End Ave by herself laughing so hard that she was crying? Yeah. Exactly.

Anyway… I hope that you can laugh at my expense. Remember, Wooden bridges over creeks are out to get you. Just swim across. Much safer.