Surviving the Fear of Falling

Ever since I first started running, I have had a healthy fear of falling.  I know that it came from running on city sidewalks and stumbling over uneven edges.  But it kept me from running with a headlamp in the early morning hours and led me to my short stint at running in the gym.  Fear is anything that keeps you from living life as you dream possible.  So it didn't keep me from running but it was definitely always there in the background.  Last weekend I ran my first trail race at the advice of my chiropractor.  It made sense.  She knew I liked running outside and that I only did "pretty" races so why not?  I checked out the website she recommended and registered for my first race.  It was a totally different experience from the big road races.  I looked around and didn't see too many 50 somethings and the thought occurred to me that this could be my race!  We started down the hill and up onto the trail.  Suddenly I found myself trying to straddle gullies and maintain my balance over the uneven terrain.  It got worse from there - dirt, sand, gravel, rocks big enough that they had to be hopped over.  The dichotomy of it all was how beautiful the views were.  My eyes would trade vistas of some of the most beautiful tree covered hills in the area with the ugliness of rutted dirt paths.  But I saw a lot more of the path than the trees.  I made it to the turn around and was thrilled.  I headed down the path to the finish feeling OK about my run.  About 3/4 of  mile from the end, I lost my footing.  There was no stumble or slide, the right foot just didn't touch the ground.  I had the presence of mind to relax everything because I knew I couldn't stop it.  This is the gift of age - knowing when to give in to the universe.  I hit the ground on my right side and suddenly felt my body sliding down the side of the hill. That, I did not anticipate.  When I stopped, I took an inventory of all the body parts.  I had puncture wounds on both hands that were bleeding, scrapes on my upper and lower right arm and my leg was covered in dust.  I got up and was thrilled that there was no other pain - no broken bones or torn ligaments.  I couldn't have been more grateful for anything in my life.  I fell and lived.  And I could still run.  So that is what I did.  I was fearless to the finish line.  I had already fallen and was bleeding so what else could happen?  Once I crossed it, I looked down at my hands and used the water I had left in my bottle to try and clean them up.  Watching the blood stream off was somehow cleansing to crossing over the line of fear.  15 minutes later, my results were posted and lo and behold, I had placed 3rd in my age group.  I headed up to the parking lot with the additional weight of a third place medal.  Never in my wildest dreams when I started this running journey did I think that I would ever place for a medal.  Living life to the fullest brings the most amazing gifts.