Falling down is different when tethered to a dog.

I suppose my body missed the hills of San Francisco more than I realized. Perhaps I was a bit more fatigued than I thought. Maybe the “natural” running form I’ve adopted has made me clumsy. I think there may have been an earthquake during my afternoon run or the warm weather made me a bit light headed. Oh…I’ve got it! Tremors caused me to fall down on my run with Amos today. I have not fallen on a run since my first year of cross country, wherein I fell twice during my log runs. The first time I played it off as though I was down for a reason. The general rule of thumb is to act like you’re stretching. The final time I fell down in front of a fraternity house, complete with coeds drinking on the porch. I vaguely recall assessing my bloody hands and then performing a curtsy. It was a shock to bite it after so long without an accident, even on trails. I’ve gotten used to falling at least once during cycling season, but running. Come on!

So, what really happened you ask? I stepped in a dirt-covered man hole (“That’s what she said”), fell on my shoulder blade, and was dragged about a foot by the A-dog. He’s a tough dude to drag my ass through the dirt. He stopped when he realized he was hauling a load. He came back to me, looked down with his cute floppy ears, and licked my face. I got up, marked the man hole, and we finished our run. Gosh he’s a good dog.

Husband snapped this photo when we got back. Notice the dirt all over my back and the unfazed dog.

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