“It is easy to fall, but hard to rise.” -Dann Moudry
It’s REALLY easy to fall for some of us.
My epic falls:
There’s not much better than playing with your best friend and best furry friend. When I was a kid my sister was my ultimate playmate and my dog, Dazee, was there to keep things interesting. One of the best ideas we ever had was to pull each other in our red radio flyer wagon! It was hard work but it was thrilling, like a make-shift roller coaster! By the end of the afternoon we were getting a little more daring… So my sister decided to pull myself and our dog in the wagon and go over a “jump”. This “jump” was a concrete step that attached our front sidewalk to the driveway. Next to this step was a flourishing red rose bush. As foreshadowing would suggest, the jump didn’t go so well. At full speed we flew over the step, the dog bailed, I was ejected and thorns were pierced into my butt! My not-so-graceful landing in the rose bush inspired tears and conflict. Let’s just say, there weren’t any more wagon rides that day…
As an ornery, rambunctious child there were never enough ways to entertain me. I was easily bored and looking for the next thrill; like a junkie but in fun, kid terms. Ha! In this particular instance I had mastered the skill of bike riding, with no training wheels, and was ready for the next big challenge! With my cute, pink-speckled glasses secured, I planted myself at the top of the driveway (a fairly steep, blacktopped path) and prepared for the ultimate stunt. I let gravity pull my wheels down the hill, with my back wheel leading the way and my neck twisted to bear witness; I saw myself quickly approaching the railroad ties that bordered our driveway. At a fairly accelerated speed, my back wheel collided with the wood barrier and I was flung backwards into the surrounding grass. As lush as the grass looked, it wasn’t the most effective landing pad. I was scraped, bruised and feeling awfully defeated. As my glasses hung from my face in pieces, the sight of my mother coming to my rescue brought me comfort. The lesson I learned that day was that if you don’t want to be forced to wear thick, sturdy, plastic glasses, you shouldn’t ride your bike backwards down a hill.
In the 1990s, Sigerson Morrison created a stir when it added a kitten heel to a pair of flip-flops. This high-end footwear trend even trickled down into the life of middle schoolers in my rural hometown. This was a must-have item and likely the first pair of heels that most girls wore to school in my grade. Well, of course, I jumped on the bandwagon and showcased my white trendy heels as often as possible at school. The confidence they gave me was wild! So much confidence in fact, that the 3-story school and it’s abundance of staircases didn’t even intimidate me. Well they should have. One day on my walk down the stairs my confidence flew out the window. My heel slipped out from underneath me, books flew, skirt rose, and butt slammed. This all happened towards the bottom of the stairs and during a low traffic time but the feeling of adrenaline that was coursing through me was insurmountable. From that day on, I NEVER attempted to walk down the stairs in heels without holding onto a railing. In fact, I didn’t even wear heels on my wedding day because of this traumatizing event!
Buying the coolest snowboarding gear, all matching Spyder pants, coat, hat, gloves, etc. does not improve your skills; I just want to be clear. When I was in high school I went snowboarding for the first time and I quickly learned the above lesson. Mastering the bunny hill does not mean that you are ready to attempt the big hill, it just means that you might not fall when exiting the ski lift (key word: might). I had a little too much confidence the first time that I went down the big hill. I forgot that digging in is essential to the slowing down process and; therefore, the maintaining control process. I was zooming down the hill with a feeling of accomplishment, that is, until I began going so fast that I became scared and wanted to slow down. I attempted to dig in to slow down but went in too deep and flew forward, eventually landing chest first on the snow. The wind was immediately knocked out of me and I was in a weird state of feeling both out of breath and nauseous. The expensive gear did nothing to cushion my blow and I realized that this sport was going to take a lot more practice than I’d originally anticipated. Maybe this will be the year that I get back out there? It’s certainly no secret that being 10 years older isn’t going to make me any more durable. I guess that means I’ll just have to actually practice this time around. Ha!
Rollerblading might have lost it’s “cool” factor after the 90’s but for me it is still an all-time favorite. The best part about rollerblading is pairing the activity with a dog walk. I can’t stress enough the importance of having a well-behaved dog before attempting this. It can be so much fun, especially for a very athletic, energetic dog like mine. I can’t run nearly as fast or far as she can but I can seriously tire her out when I’m blading beside her! So this is a frequent summer activity for us. Last summer we were navigating our usual route around the block when a group of people walking little dogs came into view. As Kimber and I were rolling down hill on the empty street, we could see the owners struggling to control their barking dogs as they saw mine. Unfortunately, one came loose and started darting toward us! The dog came into our path down the hill and my dog slowed down and then jolted forward again as an uncoordinated reaction to the obstruction. This pulled the pavement out from under my wheels and landed me right on my butt. Since we were going downhill, it took us a little longer than usual to stop, meaning that I was being dragged down the blacktop, in shorts, on my butt. Although it seemed like forever, my dog stopped as quickly as she could. The ridiculous part of this story is that the small dog’s owner walked into the road, grabbed their dog, and walked back to their group a few feet away on the side walk. As I lay on the ground, clearly injured, the group of people just gawked at me, waited for their groupie to return and continued on. There were no words of sympathy, no words at all, just stares and a smooth transition back into their walk. TOTAL BULLSHIT! Thank God I have such a well-behaved, sweet dog because otherwise their little shit of a dog could have been lunch. We crashed because of them and they showed no remorse. Thanks to them the next two weeks I couldn’t lay or sit without extreme pain and my lovely husband had to bandage and help clean the flesh-less, raw wound, basically encompassing my entire ass. FML.
So Dann Moudry nearly had it right…
