Gravity

I fall down quite a bit- and though it may surprise some of you it’s usually NOT after drinking (although I ain’t  gonna lie I’ve danced that jig before too).

                You see, I am a runner. A runner with Cerebral Palsy, no less. Add to that my occasional bad luck and panache for being a klutz and it’s a miracle I have lived to tale any tale- let alone this one.

                My problem is, I can’t get it up.

                And what I mean by that is sometimes-just sometimes-my right foot can’t make adjustments to changes to the incline that my left foot can. So if there’s a sidewalk out there that’s been pushed askew by tree roots, or a street that has bad ruts embedded in it that can be a problem.

                Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad foot, in fact I count myself lucky to have it. I mean it’s part of a set after all. Not to mention, there are folks out there that would beat me with their prosthetic to have the kind of mobility that I have.  Which is what actually motivated me to write this post.

                I fell today on an uppity part of the running path that thought it was too good to be even with the rest of the sidewalk. Immediately I knew I was fucked with a capital F–U-C-K. This wasn’t my first rodeo unfortunately.  You see, as someone with CP (that’s what all the cool kids call it) my initial reaction is to ball up my right hand (the part of my body that’s been affected by my condition) when my body goes on “high alert”. This wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that most people opt for that whole catching yourself as you fall option, or short of that bracing your body for an impact.

                So I fell, my right side battling against the concrete in a sudden crash. I can honestly say, as God as my witness, it didn’t hurt. Much. But I was mad, disappointed in myself, ashamed of my physical limitations. I cried out, I cursed God and swore so loudly that anyone that was nearby that didn’t witness the fall, certainly heard me. I mean the Heavens heard me, so you can imagine.

                At any rate, my point in all this ranting is that I AM INVINCIBLE! No, wait that’s not it.

                My point is, after hitting the ground and crying out, I could’ve easily gave up and went home. I was only 15 minutes in to my run you see, and it would’ve been easier to turn around and slink home then to march onward.

                So I stood, cranked my head to make sure I wasn’t dizzy, surveyed my cuts and bruises and took off in a sprint. And as the blood trickled from my hands and elbow and knees, I surged with energy. I pushed forward in spite of seeing red, I pushed forward because I’m a runner. Therefore, I am everything that goes along with that; a stubborn, tireless, perfectionist, relentless and determined. I kept going for me, because I wouldn’t let the fall get the better of me. I wouldn’t  turn tail and run home when there are so many people in the world that would kill to be able to take off in a surge of speed under their own power.

                To my surprise as I dashed forward, my legs weren’t stringy. I surged ahead more rapidly than before, more focused, more aware, maybe even more alive. I fed off the adrenaline; the thousands of people that have to sit idle due to physical ailments were with me too in spirit, propelling me down that path.

                As my legs became pistons, pushing me ever faster, I realized something…the fall was only a warm up.