A stumble

POP! "Shit! Shit-shit-shit-shit." I somehow managed not to completely fall headfirst into the brush and, on my hands and knees, I began to wonder if I had just broken my ankle.

It was a truly beautiful day and I was making the best of it. My newly-embraced running partner Ben was joining me on one of my favorite runs - a fartlek [Swedish for "speed play"] on the Ashworth Pool trails. These trails are popular for local mountain bikers. The trails have great hills, some narrow crossings, a few hairpin turns - for a trail in the middle of Iowa, it's a great place to ride. It's the type of trails that allow for an incredibly natural running experience and it demands a lot from those who run there. There has to be attention given to every step; with numerous trees and their roots, branches, rocks crowding the trail a runner must be aware of all that is on the path before him.

The amazing conditions of the day had one drawback in this instance. The sunlight that made the day so glorious in every other way broke through the forest canopy in a manner that confuses the eye, making it difficult for total focus of what exactly is on the trail.

We had finished one loop, a little less than two miles. My legs had clearly not recovered from a horrible run a few days before and I had found myself dragging my feet more than a runner should. Ben was spent, he didn't have the experience of hills and speed work; understandably he called it good and let me on my way to run the reverse loop.

It wasn't easy. I was definitely struggling. But even amidst the challenging run I was enjoying this quiet run in the woods. I saw a few deer and less people.

It was a rock that I had stepped on. It jutted from the ground, just beyond the patch of sunlight that had blinded me from its existence. The 'POP' of my ankle ligaments and the pain shooting up my leg was the first evidence that the rock had been there. I assessed my ankle: it wasn't swollen yet, no laceration, test it for strength - I could put some weight on it, that was good. If it was broken, it wasn't too bad. Getting up, I hobbled over to the rock. I couldn't cast too much blame on the rock, it certainly didn't intend to ruin my run, my day or my training schedule; it was just a rock and I was just a runner, these things happen, even on beautiful, perfect days. I turned back to the trail and started the quarter-mile walk to my car.

---


Don't worry, it turned out to be a minor sprain. Though Doctor Nate did advise me to be careful in case there are any hairline fractures that could be disastrous if I returned to running too quickly. I'm back to nearly a full range-of-motion, but still have a little swelling and even less pain. And I will indeed return to those trails, though I may only go when it's less sunny.

This was my first "attempt" of story-telling, I suppose it's the format that I'll stick to when telling a story [just hopping into it without any preface]. Feel free to provide feedback, if I didn't want any I wouldn't have posted it. you have my love.