It was Monday morning, I was already running late and then I found out that the road to my daughter's school was closed. It is often a journey interrupted by big puddles but on this occasion, it was impassable. I took the alternative route and arrived at school after the bell had gone. Leaving 2 year old Dylan in the car to save time, I took Addy into her classroom then ran back so as not to leave the little fella alone longer than necessary. Bad mistake. As I ran out of the school gates, my foot landed on black ice and I was lying on the hard ground before I'd even had time to register what had happened. I banged my knee on the way down but my upper arm and shoulder took the full force of the fall.
It was a vain hope that my spectacular mishap had gone unobserved. As I struggled to get back on to my feet and assess any damage, concerned mums came to see if I was OK. I was OK. Nothing broken. BUT IT HURT!!!
Dylan was completely content, playing with his toys in his car seat.
I was supposed to be going for a run that evening, now that the pavements were clear of snow and no longer a slipping hazard (!!) but I just didn't feel up for it. It made me very miserable.
Thankfully, my arm is feeling a lot better today - just some lingering stiffness - so I see no reason not to put my running shoes on tonight. I am hoping that the bang to the knee won't hinder my progress.
I have seen and heard of so many people falling on the snow and ice - some resulting in broken bones. I am grateful that for me, it was my dignity that suffered the most damage.
The snow has gone... and I am not sad to see the back of it.
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