In which the hero takes a fall

I've made a ton of mistakes when it comes to running, but I never took a spill. Until today.

Truth to be told, I was having a crappy run, anyway. My left knee felt like it was made of plastic for the first mile. I felt clunky, misaligned and very slow. There were definitely no wings sprouting from my ankles today.

I was a little over a mile into a 3-mile run when an SVU approached. I was running against traffic, like you do, and I scooted closer to the edge of the road to give the car more room to get by (no sidewalks in this literal neck of the woods).

I was on the country back roads of my neighborhood, routes I have run literally hundreds of times by now, so it wasn't new terrain. It was prime commute time, but also my regular running time, so I was used to being very aware of cars being driven by half-awake motorists speeding through the woods on the way to the main drag.

Anyway, I shifted more toward the edge of the road/woods to give the SVU a wider berth and my left foot caught on a stray branch on the ground.

A milisecond later, I was palms down, knees down, head up on the ground.

First thought: "I am on the ground."

Second thought (pardon my French): "FUCK, that hurt!"

Third thought: "Did I rip my shorts?"

See, just yesterday I bought a brand-new pair of compression shorts. I usually run in compression capris and for the first time I bought compression shorts, which end mid-thigh. First run ever in shorts and I hit the asphalt, scraping the shit out of my knees. Nifty.

So, bad news: scrapes/road rash on my knees and palms. Good news: Did not rip my $70 shorts. Even better news: Those shorts are crazy awesome. So light.

I got up gingerly and walked for a half a minute. Everything seemed to still work, so I resumed the run. Funny thing was, I actually seemed to run better after the dive. Go figure.