Flying Through the Air With the Greatest of Ease

When you’ve been out of the athletic/training game for a while, there are certain benchmarks you hit that let you know you’re starting to devolve athletically. For some people, its feeling tired all the time and for the extremely athletic, it’s noticing an increase in time or a decrease in speed.

For me, it’s falling. You see, the big guy upstairs (that’s a God-reference, not any sort of reference to my neighbor because I actually live on the top floor) did not decide in his infinite wisdom to give me what some might call grace.

I am a grade-A klutz.

Sampling of the injuries I have sustained from just walking/sitting/standing:

- Sprained ankle (2 left)
- Sprained knee
- Torn ligament (right foot)
- Torn ligament (left foot)
- Sprained, possibly broken finger
- Bruised chin
- And many more!

I was out of commission athletically from August until the beginning of November. That’s a really long time. Everyone told me that my training wouldn’t go to waste; I’d bounce back, etc. And for the most part I believed them.

Then it started.

At first it was a simple slip in the lobby of my apartment.

Later, a stumble down a few stairs at my parents’ house.

Followed by an ankle twist and skinned knee while watching the Chicago Marathon.

Then it was a trip outside my office, resulting in a grapefruit-sized bruise on my butt.

After that, a tumble at my office Christmas party in which I skinned both knees, ripped my tights and spent the first 20 minutes of the party in the bathroom trying to stop my knee from bleeding after two of the guys I work with told me I looked like I’d been shot.

I chose to ignore these falls, believing there was no way they were indicative of an athletic backslide.

Then it happened.

About a week ago, I was doing some chores around the house. As I walked down my front hallway, I slipped Looney Toons-style, my legs shooting out from under me. I fell hard on my side, bruising my hip and the side of my ribcage. The most painful part of the experience, however, was that when I fell, I cracked my head on the corner of the wall, causing a huge bump that resembled a devil horn perfectly placed on the side of my already sizable head.

As I lay there seeing stars, unable to sit up, I began to think of a few things:

1. I live alone, and should I continue to injure myself in my home, I may come to a situation
where I seriously hurt myself and no one is there to help me.
2. I should be careful where I walk
3. I just nearly knocked myself unconscious by walking.
4. I might just finally be willing to admit that my clumsiness has returned.

I hear admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.

My name is Kate, and I have no balance.