Racing with destiny

I raced with destiny yesterday morning, and by that I mean I enjoyed a pleasant jog and the familiar humiliation of a face plant on a busy street.

I am destined to sport the skinned knees and elbows of a kindergartner well into my old age.

Following this particularly glorious fall, as I leapt back to my feet before either of the two construction vehicles that had slowed down at the sight of my sprawl could further my embarrassment by offering aid, I spotted a banana peel.

Somewhere up there in those vast heavens, someone is having a good guffaw at my expense. I thought about my father in-law and how much he enjoyed a good practical joke, and my dad and his goofy sense of humor and my grandma who never could understand why I ran, sometimes even in circles, just for exercise.

“Good one!” I said as I saluted the sky and I hoped there was a whole crew of people up there peeking through the clouds and enjoying a good belly laugh.

I picked up my loyal and now further chipped up phone and snapped a shot.

“Huh!”, I thought. “A banana peel. Who’d a thought?”

Then, I limp/laughed all the way home.

I love the views along my morning route in any season, but Appleton looked especially sharp yesterday. Then, my mind wandered and I tripped, skidded a little in a futile attempt to preserve my dignity, and face planted right on the sidewalk.
It appears, I fell for the old slipping on a banana peel joke, which reminds me…Why do bananas wear sunblock? Because they peel.
I’m one of those nutballs that checked almost immediately upon returning home to see how my fitness tracker logged my spectacular fall. I was very disappointed to see it barely registered a blip.

3 thoughts on “Racing with destiny

    1. Such a good analogy! Sometimes I do look like a Pucasso but this one was pretty tame. Just a couple of scrapes

  1. That is such a baaaaaaad joke. But a really respectable 10min mile pre-fall pace. My last fall (didn’t lift foot high enough to clear curb) had me sprawled across sidewalk, phone, glasses, hat scattered here and there. A lovely huge man doing landscaping about 6 feet away picked me up with one strong arm, gathered my belongings with the other, and had the most worried look on his face. Of course my embarrassment and physical pain prevented my ability to recall my high school Espanol to say I’d be okay. But a dozen “muchas gracias” and a few smiles seemed to express my meaning.

    PS. Great banana peel pic. And do you know what animals in the zoo wear to go swimming? Zucchinis.

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