about that long run...

So yesterday, I had a great 8 miles in the 57 degree sunshine.

Well, make that a great 5.68 miles and a so-so 2.22 miles.

Within 2 blocks of where I broke my foot in July 2008, I took a big spill. My lovely wife was riding her bike behind me - I'd picked her up at mile 4 and convinced her to enjoy the sunshine - and said I stepped on a rock. Which, apparently, I should have seen.  (But I'm glad she was there to make sure I was ok and talk me into finishing the run and not just walking the mile to home!) Obvious issues with this sight problem aside - my broken foot was a twig problem- I pretty much tucked and rolled and came to a stop on the curb.  I'd hit my knees pretty hard, but I'm not sure if the tears brought to my eyes were out of pain, fear, or embarrassment. Since this photo (about 30 min after), they've swollen slightly and are a little bruised. Every time I stand I feel like its post game, except its only my knees! I wasn't ready for this!

Somewhat ironically (perhaps), I've taken three pretty good spills running without major injury (this one, the one in December, and one when I was 18 that was clown-like and dramatic and yielded a pretty big scar on my right knee - you can sorta see it in the photo above my scrape (the kind of round slightly discolored area towards my shin)- not to mention a world of embarrassment at my huge knee bruise and massive scab).  Both of the times I've tripped and broken my foot, I didn't fall. Go figure.

On the upside, throwing myself across a sidewalk at a fairly good pace is a nice way to prep my body for the joys of our (run down public park) practice glorified rock and glass laden concrete field.