I am currently in bed icing my knees and hand from a nasty fall while trail running, so I find myself back in the Facebook rabbit hole. I just referred my blog to someone who is embarking on her treatment for hip dysplasia. So, I hop on the blog, and realized I haven’t posted in over a year! Wait…what? I have been busy living my life, and have finally gotten to the point where there are weeks that I don’t think about my hips, hip pain (what’s that?), or surgery. Then I will find myself gently touching my PAO scars peeking out of my swimsuit while laying out at my apartment pool (by appointment only) and thinking, “I haven’t forgotten. Thank you.”
I’m inspired to share with you what happened today. But first, a little backstory: When the sh** hit the proverbial fan with COVID-19 in March, I saw my main source of income, live event art shows, vanish. I quickly pivoted and started applying for grants of all sorts, and was awarded the Martha Kate Thomas Grant by the Boulder County Arts Alliance in May so that I could start a small jewelry school!
Fast forward to this morning, today the first class was scheduled and I intended to be there at 8:30 to open the studio, meet the instructor and student, and get things in order. I had the brilliant idea of going for a trail run *before* the class. I had a great jaunt up Lion’s Lair to the top of Mount Sanitas in Boulder. I took my view pic and selfie at the top:
As I was headed down (quickly), I approached this hiker walking down and I gave him a verbal cue that I was coming, and he failed to yield. In fact, he didn’t even budge. The polite thing would be to take a step to the right so I could pass on the left. So I passed, and I stepped off the trail, and I lost my balance and I fell. Hard. In fact, there was a point I realized I was airborne, downhill, and that is not a good feeling.
I am sad that in this current world that we live in with all the hate and cray-cray, three people saw me fall and not one asked if I was okay. Even the a-hole who wouldn’t yield walked right past me while I as bleeding. No matter, I was left to fend to myself. After an assessment that nothing was broken or sprained and I didn’t hit my head, I quickly dumped all the water from my Camelbak on my wounds. As I was walking as fast as I could to my car so I could get to work, trying to shake off the pain, I thought, “Well, at least I can run so I can get injuries like this!” Thankfully its just some abrasions on both knees and my left hand, and it’s an excuse to be extra gentle with myself (I have been burning the candle at both ends for awhile now). And, I am officially initiated as a trail runner (I did fall once a few years ago a Ragnar but the scrapes hardly counted as an initiation):
I was late, of course, to my studio but greeted my student with bloody knees, a face mask and smiling eyes. I owe a special thanks to my studio-mate and instructor, Chris, who went to Walgreens to get me bandages and hydrogen peroxide to do an initial cleaning before my 30 minute drive home.
In short, this is what us PAO Warriors are built for: so we can enjoy adventures and recover from the hiccups along the way.