Oh my God are you okay?

Kirst sweetly encouraged me:

"It could have been worse, you could have been rolled right off the end" (said for the record with a mischievous smile ... a smile that says I am picturing this in my head as we speak and it is right funny)

"Yeah, and even worse, I could have been thrown so far that I could have knocked some poor member walking behind me right off of their feet!"

Giggles.

I am moving forward with my training for a sprint triathlon this spring and was running on the treadmill at Westside Rec Centre, a beautiful facility. I had to start back at square one with my running as my body refused to skip ahead. My need to follow rules rears its ugly little head once again. Each week I push things a little further, add a little bit more time, and try to kill myself a little harder. This week we were upon the two ten minute runs with two minutes of walking in between. In all fairness, I knew from the start of that day that my body was at the point where it was .... hmmm? Ready to leave me? Compiling very sound arguments as to why the amount of moving we were doing was pretty much bad for all parties. You know the point. The point where the novelty of working out has worn off, your muscles are tired, where you are seriously tempted to just skip a couple days or quite all together. But I made it, and I was 35 seconds away from finishing my second run ... and BAMN, CRASH, BOOM. Yes it could have been worse had I not caught myself with my arms, had the treadmill not stopped. Yes it could have been worse, but it was BAD. Immediate concern was convincing my neighbor friends that I was okay. Two very sweet girls who were quite worried (one who showered in perfume - note to the world: DO NOT WEAR STRONG SCENTS TO THE GYM!!!). I recovered and tried to walk the last couple steps before the treadmill totally stopped ... only to find my little leg had thrown in the towel and left. No power, leaving me once again buckled at the knee and hanging onto the railings. Which of course did nothing for my case of trying to convince stinky and supper woman that I was okay. I stood on my good leg and pretended to stretch out my uninhabited one, trying to buy it some time to get its ass back in action.

" It is just a kink. I am fine. No worries, I will just stretch it out."

At that moment I was not even concerned about what had actually happened ... I was utterly and transparently embarrassed. Red in the cheeks, pulse racing, sweating embarrassed. And the last thing in the world I wanted to do was to have to explain that I have a tumor pressing on the nerve that goes to my leg and it sometimes gives me problems. I don't get easily embarrassed, but I do about my physical ability. I sometimes wonder if I would have been a great athlete had I not had the disabilities I ended up with. My mom and dad were both great athletes. Especially my mom, she was and still is a brilliant swimmer.
Why would I be embarrassed. Even with the disabilities I have I am out there challenging my body to be the all that it can be. Sometimes I wish that I had a bracelet like diabetics that would automatically indicate to people that my movements are painful and fought for and that a little loss of power now and then is part of my reality and part of my beauty.
The power did come back. And after I made it to the stretch area and plopped down, I did find myself beside a very attractive man : ) And I was laughing about it by the time I made it to Kirst's house. And as long as we don't think about the possible neurological conditions that brought about the whole falling thing ... I am good.

This is so fun. Maybe one day I will master the treadmill like these chaps!