So, remember how once upon a time, there was a 5K and it was cool and there were men dressed as German barmaids and there was free beer at the end? It was awesome.
And then, once upon a time, there was another 5K. And there were people bundled in 5,000 layers of clothing because it was freezing outside and there was no free beer. And it was not awesome.
Well, actually, it had all the potential to be awesome. Why? Because it was a Junior League 5K and many of my beautiful friends were there, all decked out in their cold weather attire and ready to take on 3.1 miles of park.
And, there were kids dressed in capes and pets dressed in capes and hula hooping stations. How could this not be an awesome day?
Well, I’ll tell you.
It was not an awesome day because my run went from a 5K to a .5K. Maybe even worse than that.
Do you remember the movie Cool Runnings?
See how Junior in the photo is running, running, then – SPLAT. That was me. An inglorious sprawl into dirt, gravel and rocks, and one that left me with wounds to my hands, knees, ankle and pride. It’s not shocking that the falling runner in the above photo is wearing my two favorite colors and my very favorite number. The fall was cosmically predestined.
Obviously, running for the day was over as my darn Stone-family-inherited weak ankle tendons or whatever were stretched and strained into swollen, limping oblivion. And then, the rest of the day got no better. Baylor basketball lost because a buzzer beater shot went in .01 seconds too late (and because we can’t make free throws) and then I went home and watched the second half of the most tear-inducing cryfest of a move ever (Love Actually, naturally) because I figured I might as well channel all my angsty, pent-up energy into something productive. So, I watched it and howled and bawled out all my frustrations until the neighbors probably either thought I was dying or that we had invited an entire family of frustrated alleycats to take up residence in our living room.
Needless to say, this three-day weekend hasn’t been dedicated to organizing and productivity as I had originally envisioned. But today, like a captive Rapunzel immured in my tower bedroom (because stairs hurt) I have finished two books, done my Bible study, and played about 35 levels of Candy Crush. Desperate measures…. very desperate measures.
Next time, there might a solution to this situation – but I’m not sure what it might be. Possibly, “Watch where you’re going when you’re running.” Possibly, “Don’t think you’re all fast and try to pass people,” as apparently, sometimes pride does literally go before a fall (thanks, Proverbs. Appreciate that.). Or, possibly, in the wise, wise text message I received from my friend Heather, “See… don’t run!”