It was like déjà vu all over again.
There I am, jogging along. Minding my own business. And then there’s ice. And then there’s me, falling.
So what did I do?
I jumped back up and continued running, before anyone else might have noticed. There is a trail that leads from our development to the high school, and that was where I fell. I fell right in full view of several houses. I ran far enough to be out of the line of sight before I stopped to check for injuries or missing body parts.
Unlike 2009, when I fell on the ice while jogging around the high school, I did not seriously injure myself. I did scrape and bruise my arm. My hip hurts, but not the joint itself. Just a flesh wound! Or bruise. I finished another three miles after the fall–including running back the same icy trail to get home! I also apparently cut my ankle, but I didn’t even notice that until someone else pointed it out.
I was actually more worried about my Ipod. I carry it in my hand inside my glove, and run the ear bud wire down my sleeve. When I hit the ground, the music suddenly stopped. I might have gone deaf, but I was more worried I had smashed my Ipod. My right arm was hurting and took the brunt of the fall.
But a quick check showed that the wire had been pulled free. I plugged it back in, the band played on, and off I went.
Now you may ask, why would you run on a trail you knew was icy?
Why do rednecks ask someone to hold their beer and watch as they try to drive an ATV up a tree?
It’s what I do. I run. I can’t let a silly thing like weather get in the way.
The trail was there. I had to get from here to there. I couldn’t very well fly over it. My dogsled is in the shop (it’s been a loooong winter.) I ran on this trail yesterday without falling. I fully expected to pull this thing off again without bloodshed. Alas, I was wrong.
Couldn’t you run on a treadmill?
I own a dreadmill. I hate the dreadmill. I’d rather fall on the ice than run on the dreadmill. I would not dreadmill here or there. I would not dreadmill anywhere. I would not do it with a goat. I would not do it on a boat. Well, I might if I couldn’t jog around the deck. But I digress.
I have noticed that when I run, my pace varies. Here is a chart of my pace when I’m not
running falling on ice:
If it were my heart rate, it would probably be fibrillation. Don’t quote me on that. Dammit Jim, I’m just an eye doctor! I haven’t put a stethoscope on a patient’s heart in 23 years.
Now, can you imagine trying to run those peaks and valleys on a dreadmill? My finger would have a blister on it from adjusting the speed up and down too often. I would be in fibrillation if I had to do that.
And, if I haven’t been perfectly clear on this matter, I hate the dreadmill.
Couldn’t you just not run?
Couldn’t you just stop asking stupid questions? I don’t ask you to just stop breathing do I?
So why don’t you wear YakTrax or some other product that would be useful on ice?
My you ask a lot of questions. Just like I own a dreadmill, I have a pair of DueNorth Ice Cleats. I don’t like them! Oh, they work fine, if you are constantly on snow or ice and don’t mind things strapped to your feet besides your shoes. But the road from my house to the trail–NO ICE! From the trail to the rest of my run–NO ICE! I would only need them for about a quarter of a mile or less, and I hate the clacking, bumpy feel of them on dry pavement. Don’t roll your eyes at me–you asked!
OK. I could stop and try to stretch them on over my shoes before I hit the trail, and then reverse the process on the other side. Repeat for the trip back home. Carry them in my hands when I’m not on the ice. But if you don’t know me very well, I do not have the patience for that shit and I’ll take my chances with the ice.
So why did I bother telling you this?
It’s a public service announcement. Ice is icy. You might fall. When you fall, you might get hurt. If you get hurt you might go to the hospital. If you go to the hospital, you might have to watch cable TV. Don’t get stuck watching cable TV. Stay off the ice!