Mrs. Teabody Does Fall

 

Fannypack: Car key, phone, music, bandage, mint

I walk, therefore I am? I don't know how your mornings start, but mine start out in the streets of my little hamlet where over the course of the last two years I have transitioned from a mildly energetic effort of two miles to a most recently determined effort of 4 miles. All of this effort is in the pursuit of a healthier life and the effort has paid off. In two years time I have dropped (very slowly) nearly 30 pounds, reduced my clothing size by two sizes, increased my energy level exponentially and have as my ultimate reward better health. As one in my very advanced years and living on borrowed time--having long passed my semi-promised three score and ten -- this "better health" is among my most prized possessions. All of that could have come to a very bad ending this morning when I took my third fall of my life. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Many, many years ago I read a terrifying story in READERS DIGEST about a woman who got up in the middle of the night for a drink of water, fell down a flight of stairs that had always been where they were and ended up being paralyzed.  For life. If you know anything at all about the Scotts/Irish/German temperament, you know how fiercely independent we can be and the idea that I could--out of my own carelessness-- end up disabled was not something I wanted to be responsible for. A different story if an illness incapacitated me but to be permanently disabled by something I did out of carelessness? No, Mon ami, THAT was to be avoided. 

And so I hold on. I tread lightly. I do not take chances. That being said, I fell on the ice in a parking lot where I worked twenty-five years ago and hurt my pride and caused my hand to bleed. No serious outcome. About twenty years ago I was marching along the streets of London with a group when I placed my foot on a  slightly icy metal door covering a cellar and my feet actually flew out from under me. The first point of contact was my head. I literally saw stars. Thought I was a goner. I soon recuperated and to this day blame my being slightly hard of hearing and ever so forgetful on that unfortunate incident. But no broken bones, Thank Heaven. Just watch me. I hold tightly to railings. I keep well to one side on escalators and hold on. I go down steps at a snail's pace and would no more dream of going up or down stairs without holding on than I would dream of appearing in public without clothing.

And my resolve not to fall has served me well through all this time. All of that changed this morning through a concatenation of events I am claiming to have had no control of while, in fact, it can all be attributed to laziness on my part. And a little lapse in judgement.

I walk in darkness either at 5:00 or 5:30 A.M.-- mostly with a partner. We walk on pavement; we walk in the middle of the street having long ago discovered that  the combination of darkness and uneven sidewalks can literally "trip us up". After all, no one else is using the level and wide streets. This morning was odd  as I had no walking partner and it was cold. I made a split second decision to postpone my routine. I would walk later, much later in full daylight. The problem which I had not reckoned with was the sun. I had scarcely begun my walk - - only about 1.5 miles in when I realized the better part of the next mile would be in  pleasant but blinding direct sunlight. And that is when I made my first mistake. I chose a path less traveled by - - a rocky, earthen, unpaved path and not even a mile in I caught my right foot on a rock I could barely see and for the first time in decades I felt myself helplessly  airborne. I knew I was in trouble and even as I was in flight I had the presence of mind to wonder how all this would end. 

Then I hit. The first thing to meet the earth was my brand new fanny pack containing everything you see at the top. Renee Zellweger suddenly halted in her wonderfully irreverent song about hubby Amos. My phone and my ancient i-pod pressed against my ribs and in that moment I "sorta" knew I was okay as both hands hit the dirt, followed by elbows and then my glasses flew and both knees came down hard. The wind was out of me and I just lay there, trying hard not to imagine the worst, not wanting to know. I started counting to 100; I started a meditation; I resolved to be still, not to overreact. A long minute passed as I reassured myself I would not die today and then began the slow tortured assessment: no broken bones, a bleeding right hand, no protruding pieces of bone. I rolled onto my back and  made the final determination that I had broken nothing more than my spirit. Blood from my right hand dripped onto my mask I had around my right wrist in case I met someone. My new pink sweatshirt was covered in dry debris.  But me? I was going to live.

I crawled onto a nearby bank and under a wire and onto a paved parking lot. I "resumed my walk" curtailed by events of the past few minutes. I set out at a slow pace to my shop where I cleaned my wound on my hand, shook the debris from my sweatshirt and checked the day's mileage 2.4 miles. I locked the shop and reset my watch to resume the morning walk and set out to finish what I'd started.

Tomorrow is the first day of Fall. I feel an affinity with Mother Nature and I cannot help but wonder if my FALL this morning was some sort of cosmic haha moment, some not so gentle reminder that maybe I should stick to the road MORE travelled by and maybe the flat, the certain, the predictable should be my course--at least when it comes to my healthy morning walk.