Today I had a doctor appointment. We did labs and luckily, everything is good.
I told her about my recent attempt to get back into running– and tripping! She had a good laugh about the little demon dogs. I told her how hard it is to start over after being gone almost 10 months from regular runs or racing.
That I have anxiety about falling again. That I feel like I’ve forgotten how.
And she did the most awesome thing. She pulled up the sleeves on her lab coat to show off her own battle scars– especially her elbows.
“They didn’t really heal,” she said with a smile. Next she showed me the knee scars, with pride!
This woman is a full-on M.D. at one of the best hospitals in the country. She’s petite and fit and has glorious natural long hair. She’s the kind of woman I see and think, “Wow.”
And she was telling me that she, too, falls down running.
The difference between us is that she doesn’t let her falls define or scare her.
She gets back out there. She accepts those clumsy moments.
And she knows that falling is part progress. As long as you don’t stop.
My sleeping has been off, and running used to help regulate it.
I can do this.