Bustin’ my tail for cancer

Literally.

This morning, it was a seven-mile run in my neck of the woods. Since the ground has been frozen for days, and tiny snowflakes are still falling, it meant one thing for middle Tennessee. Icy roads.

Did that stop us? Heck. No.

We ran about a mile or so, solid tempo, feeling great. Except I was fairly certain my fingers were about to fall off, so I stopped to get some hand warmers, which is when I got separated from the pack. I tried to remember the route the best I could, but I, in my stubborn I-know-this-run-like-the-back-of-my-hand attitude, took a wrong turn and lost track of the crew altogether.

Once I realized what I’d done, I figured that I was just five minutes away from the water stop and that I’d just catch up with them there. Then. BAM. I was on the ground. In the middle of the road.

If you’ve ever slipped on ice while running, then you know that your mind blacks out from the time your feet leave the ground to the time your head hits it. One second, you’re stepping up to get on the sidewalk. The next, you’re looking at a moving vehicle, heading your way.

Sure, I bruised my hip and elbow [see pics below], but the part that was injured most was my ego. I don’t care about falling, but I know that person in the car was thinking, “Check out this idiot. Thinking she can run on ice. She so deserved that for being so stupid.”

So I hopped up and kept running. It wasn’t until I finally found my team at the water stop that I realized I had forgotten to brush myself off. So, yeah. I ran down Belmont Boulevard with snow ALL OVER my rear end.

I managed to finish the seven miles without another wipeout, which is quite a feat with some of those hills. And to celebrate our valiant running efforts, we met up at my favorite spot in Nashville and had coffee/breakfast.

Today. Today is a good day.

Now if you love this story. If you love me. If you love running. Or if you love the idea of finding a cure for cancer, click here to donate now!