Bone Junior, on the phone to Bone Senior, voice warbling and lower lip trembling: Sister? Something terrible happened...the most humiliating, embarrassing moment of my life...I just want to die...
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So Saturday we did the Race for the Cure, and we actually ran some of the way. A major accomplishment for me, because I'm an avid non-believer in running. And after you hear about what happened at the race, I think you'll become an avid non-believer as well.
Our team started out strong near the front of the pack of thousands and thousands of participants. I made it clear from the start that I had no intention of running, mostly because everything bounces when I run, and not in a Baywatch kinda way. I avoid that kind of movement at all costs.
But once we started walking and were being passed by runners, I figured what the hell and we all ran for about three minutes. By then I was pretty winded, so we walked and decided that we'd sprint across the finish line in a final burst of hurrah, but would walk until then. Sounds good to me.
Two miles later, Nicole (who is 6'1" and all legs) and I were running side by side, sprinting full speed towards the finish line, which was surrounded by hundreds of people, news cameras, photographers, etc. I was running with my arms flailing and mouth wide open because I was so excited to be finishing the race. Nicole (who is 6'1" and all legs) was running with limbs flailing and mouth wide open because she was so excited to be finishing the race. We were quite the spectacle as we approached the finish line which - I cannot emphasize enough - was crowded with hundreds of people.
Unbeknownst to me, Nicole (who is 6'1" and all legs) had decided that when she crossed the finish line, she was going to jump up and kick her feet together out to the side, a la her celebratory jig. We were within mere feet of the brightly painted pink line on the ground. This was my moment. I finished! I did it!
I started to throw my hands up in the air when suddenly my left leg was kicked out from under me, mid stride, and I fell to the ground with my left leg bent underneath my body and my right leg straight out in front of me. But I didn't just fall to the ground - I had been moving forward with such force and momentum that I hit the ground and continued to slide forward for several more feet. I literally did the splits as I slid across the finish line.
I did the splits as I slid across the finish line.
In front of hundreds of people, who, by the way, I heard collectively gasp as they saw me go down. Suddenly I became a road block as the runners around me had to jump over and around me. Nicole quickly helped me up, and I heard people clapping as I limped away.
This was my big moment, my big accomplishment, and of course I had to be "that girl who fell and slid across the finish line."
It took a few minutes before I was able to laugh about it because I felt so embarrassed, but once I thought about it, I realized that if you have to go down, going down on your butt is the best way to go. It would've been WAY worse if I'd have flipped ass over teakettle and gone headfirst - I could've broken a tooth, or at the very least walked away with some serious road rash on my face. Instead, I limped away with serious road rash on my knee. My bruised pride was by far the worst injury.
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
I look forward to sharing more pictures as both my bruise and humiliation continue to develop. My only comfort is that maybe someday I'll see myself on America's Funniest Home Videos. Show me the money.
Day Two
Day Three
I look forward to sharing more pictures as both my bruise and humiliation continue to develop. My only comfort is that maybe someday I'll see myself on America's Funniest Home Videos. Show me the money.
7 comments:
I'm proud to see that you were willing to sacrifice for body for a cure. That's incredibly noble of you. Don't worry. Scars are sexy. :)
You have nice knees.
I'll give $50 to the person who has video footage of their friend/family member crossing the line and you in the background, eating asphalt.
Tarable is right...you DO have nice knees. Even if there's a little bruise. And I have to admit, I thought the damage would be much, much worse. Good thing you've got your killer racing stripes to cheer you up.
That's the REAL reason I sponsored you, walking is boring - but making a 'tard of one-self is priceless.
I always fall, one time when i was little I actually "tripped" over a Golden Retriever (whilst running from someone trying to tag me). Incase you dont know what a Golden Retriever is, its a dog that is about 25 inches at the shoulder, giant and bright yellow. I skinned my forehead (far-head), nose, and both knees.
The only thing that would make your story better is if you jumped right up and exclaimed "I MEANT TO DO THAT!", or "I'M OKAAAAAY!" - while panting heavily.
I adore yee.
At least you didn't get run over by people racing in stiletto heels. Either way- ouch. But way to go on finishing with FLAIR!
Steve - I think it's fair to say that I definitely gave of my body for the cause.
Tarable - Thanks! You're the first person to ever compliment me on my knees.
Bone Senior - Thanks! You're the second person to ever compliment me on my knees.
Lady - This is why I love you. And thank you for pointing out "far-head".
Andi - To say I finished with flair is an understatement. I made that finish line my beyatch and then told it to make me a sandwich.
I too thought the damage would be worse. That tan of yours must be working to your advantage as a great camouflage(sp? don't ask me I am just a housewife)Hope your sandwich was good...
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