First Things First

It was a day of "firsts." I completed my first 45 minute run. As I rounded the bend I was especially happy to see my husband had come outside to watch me, and my son had run to the end of the driveway to join me on the last three minutes. He was so excited about running with me that he got too close, whereby I proceeded to trip myself up and had...my "first" fall. Embarrassed at my lack of coordination in front of my cheering audience, I did what any wannabe athelete would do, I jumped up and yelled, "I am okay!" And, just like the Olympians who continue on after a big spill when they know they have lost, I checked my timer to see how much time I had and continued on as if all was well -- while silently grimacing at my sore hip and scrapped palms, and simultaneously planning a long hot bubble bath, glass of wine, and Naproxen.