Spirit of the Marathon and why am I so klutzy?

Last week, I tricked Barry into seeing Spirit of the Marathon with me.  I wanted to buy tickets ahead of time so I texted him while he was at work and asked: “Wanna go to the movies on 2/21?”.  He responded with the OK.  When I told him later that day what we’d be seeing, he was none too thrilled, saying that he’s not a runner so why would he want to see a movie about running?  To this, I had to point out that he’s seen countless football movies despite not being a football player.  He claimed that because this is a documentary, it’s different.  Oh come on!  It’s a documentary about sports, not handbags.  I could have dragged him to much worse.

I’d venture to say that he ended up really enjoying it, as did I.  I left the theater slightly inspired, slightly scared and slightly excited.  The marathon is an event that continues to simultaneously intrigue and intimidate me.  I do wish the film had done more follow-up with the runners after the marathon.  We got to see one of the first-timers break down crying on the course but we never heard her discuss this afterwards.  We saw that the injured runner trying to BQ did eventually run Boston.  However, they didn’t mention whether he got there by qualifying.  All in all, it was a good movie.  It held my attention, which is saying a lot.  I usually struggle to sit through an entire movie.

In other running news, I decided to head outdoors after work last night as opposed to my usual weeknight dreadmill run.  It seemed a waste not to take advantage of the mild temperature.  I headed out at 6:00 when darkness was setting in and stuck mostly to the main road.  I headed down my 3 mile route, adding some side streets to up the mileage.  I quickly learned that it’s a bad idea to try a new route in poor lighting.  The 2nd street I turned down was pretty dark and I somehow tripped and fell in the most ungraceful way possible.  I had one of those slow-mo moments.  As I tumbled to the ground, I distinctly remember saying to myself:  Are you kidding?  Again? (plus many expletives).  Fortunately, this fall was not nearly as bad as my last one.  I just hurt my pride palms and banged my knee.  What is wrong with me?  I am the least coordinated person EVER.  As I scraped myself off the pavement I think I heard someone calling to see if I was OK but I feigned deafness and continued on my way.  If I have to be a klutz, I’d at least like to be an annonymous one.