Trippin'

So. Number three -- or was it?

Lynne and I were in Frederick today for the half marathon; she as the runner and I as the mascot. We were headed back to her car from the fairgrounds, walking along the sidewalk at a fairly brisk pace when my right foot caught a piece of uneven concrete and -- you guessed it -- down I went. I could hear people around me reacting to my fall, I remember realizing I was going down, but I don't remember impact.

Once I hit the ground I remember rolling onto my back. Lynne and another woman were hovering over me, not letting me get up. My first words to Lynne were "this was not an ALS fall." The other woman kept saying I hit my face, but I didn't feel anything (because I hadn't hit my face). Because we were at the race start there were medical people nearby and they came running. I felt totally ridiculous sprawled on the ground, being attended to like it was something serious. I did scrape my big toe (and ruined my pedicure) on the right foot, and I scraped my left knee. My arms, hands, face, butt all survived. My pride has taken a hit though.

So what do you think? Lynne is concerned, I am not so much. After I fell, I mean tripped, I managed to walk 2 miles (to the 6.5 mile point on the course) without mishap.

I blame the sidewalk and my big feet.