The time was already nearing 10:30, a much later start to my morning run than I typically liked. As of recently, however, I have decided to ban the weekend alarm, allowing my body to get the rest it desired.
With my shoes tied, I was quickly ready to run. Almost immediately it seemed as if I was in the moment, focusing on each footstep, each stride.
From the distance, I could already see the obstacles that I was approaching. It's always easy to distinguish recently poured patches of concrete. The color being pure grey, not a single sign of aging. It is yet marked from years of use, pitted, stained, or even slightly weathered. The wood forms still held in place by rebar stakes, then wrapped like a crime scene with caution tape. However, this caution tape was pink, something unfamiliar and strange to me.
I could have ran around the whole mess into the lawn sloppied with mud, but I chose the course of obstacles. I cleared the first section, and as if in slow motion, watched my left foot land onto this unmarked concrete.
"Haha caution tape, can't stop me now!" I felt like I said it out loud, but surely it must have been in my head.
Then it happened, so fast that the details are still unclear. Jumping back over the tape and onto the old, my left foot caught. In one sudden motion, the momentum behind a 6:30 pace was transferred directly downward into the ground. There wasn't the slightest give to the tape. One would think it would break, but such wasn't the case. The rebar was rigid and stiff, refusing to move even an inch, like it was anchored deeply into the earth.
Simultaneously with the impact of my body to the ground, I heard a loud, undistinguishable, but recognizable sound. It sounded like ice cracking under too heavy a load. After rising to my feet, I felt no severe pains and thus continued about on my run. Shortly after I glanced down to look at my watch, now realizing where the noise came from.
Atleast it isn't bike related, cause then I'd be off to a rough start.
