I wonder how often other people wipe out when running on the trail. It would be nice to benchmark myself somewhere between ‘never’ and ‘all the fucking time’.
This circles through my head as I examine my knees, both scraped and with pretty blooming bruises a day after a truly terrific fall on my run yesterday. It’s been a while since I caused myself visible damage on a run, though I’ve had a fair share of palm abrasions and a couple (yes, more than once) times where I ran into a tree and ran away with cuts on my arm. So. Clearly I’m not always paying the best attention. I’ve thus far ignored the more professional advice not to listen to anything when you run and kept plowing through my (distracting?) audiobooks.
Being mud and blood splattered does tend to make me feel a little badass as I finish my run, but it’s short-lived. I mean, it’d be badass to run in tough conditions, sure, but not to wipe out in them. Especially in front of witnesses.
Wipe out number one yesterday happened on mile three on an unassuming flat section of trail. I had just passed another runner when suddenly I was splayed out on the ground. Besides the initial impact though, I looked to be fine, gave a thumbs up to the guy asking if I was okay, and started running again, red-cheeked, trying to appear normal in my gait until the temporary throb faded. But no skin was broken. Embarrassing, but ultimately harmless.
Then, in mile six, I went down hard. I had just passed a big group of people and I was on a more technical part of the trail. I couldn’t tell you how it happened but suddenly I was falling, audibly yelled out, and slammed to the ground — which was not the forgiving earth earlier, but rocky and uneven. It hurt, but I immediately rolled to my feet and started trying to walk it off before that big group of people saw this second embarrassment of the morning.
I did notice right away that my leggings had torn on my right knee in two places, showing the scraped skin and causing me to swear internally. These were my favorite Lulu Lemon leggings — they’d felt like a luxury for me to purchase in the first place and I wore them obsessively. But not carefully, it seemed.
All said, the impact of the fall wore off enough that I could tell I wasn’t seriously injured. Nothing was twisted or bleeding profusely. I started running and finished the last four miles, if not a bit slower.
Reflecting on it, I think I’m more prone to fall when I’m fatigued or not paying attention to my running form. If I’m picking my feet up (rather than kicking forward/back) these falls should happen less (if ever). I enjoy the technicality of trail running, it’s interesting and builds balance and strength in a different way than on the road. Then again, I’ve never wiped out running until I started trail running last year, so I’m looking forward to some time pounding the pavement (and maybe the sand) when I vacation next week.
And okay, yes, I’m complaining about my bruises and embarrassment but in the end, I really don’t mind some physical proof that I’m trying, and that a few falls aren’t going to stop me from getting back up and finishing what I set out to do.
With Love,
Natalie