Falling

As I soared through the air, I thought about how bad hitting the sidewalk was going to hurt.

It's a strange feeling to be completely unable to stop something from happening even though you know the result ahead of time. But I had already set this spill in motion.

I had gone for a run pretty late. It was light when I left but had gotten dark by the time I headed home.

Evening is a great time to run around the Jackie O Reservoir in Central Park. You can see the entire city skyline as you round the oval. The lights are just beginning to flicker on.

The view helps you remember how enormous and beautiful the city can be _ something that's easy to forget when you're in it day to day.

I was in the last block or two of my course, so I was running my fastest on a slight downhill.

I was thinking about something else _ I can't even remember what now _ when my toes struck a partially erupted sidewalk. I think it's what happens when water gets between the cracks and into the dirt beneath the concrete.The sidewalk's slabs act like tetonic plates or icebergs as they bump into each other and rise.

My forward momentum launched me into the air. It seemed like moments went by before I hit the sidewalk. I remember thinking that I should put my hands in front of my face and wondering if anybody was watching.

"This is going to hurt," I said, as I hit the pavement and slid, ripping the skin off my left lower leg, left hip and shoulder.

When I stopped sliding, I rolled to my back, striking the back of my hand on the sidewalk, causing more cuts and bruises.

I didn't lie there long. It's a pride thing, after all, no matter how badly hurt you are.

As I rose, I noticed a workman across the street who was looking at me. "Do you need help?" he shouted over.

"No," I whimpered, "I'm fine."

A bicycle deliveryman who had apparently been at the corner when I fell got on his bike and rode to me. He was not convinced by my claim that I was fine. "Be careful," he said, as he rode away. Too late, I thought.

I limped home periodically stopping to look at my abrasions under the light or wipe the blood that was dripping down the front of my leg. The skin on my hip looked like road pizza, so did the skin on my lower leg. The back of my knee had already swelled up. My palms burned from sliding across the concrete.

But as I surveyed my wounds, I realized I was proud. They were like a badge of honor.

Yes, I had fallen, but I had also gotten up and walked away.

I couldn't wait to show my injuries to Mark and I was already thinking about my next run...