How being clumsy teaches lessons for the New Year

So, it was the last day of 2015. I was determined to get outside in the (relative) warmth of a 40 degree day, and give Sadie a long, long walk to make up for all the hours I’d kept the poor pooch in the dreaded, hated car getting back from Norfolk.

I also wanted to end the year on a strong note, so I had fired up my Map My Hike ap, which makes a map of where I walk and how long it takes, and how many miles, etc. I sort of love the idea of marking my path, despite the creepiness of knowing satellites are tracking me.

I also wanted to take some pictures for my #niftyfiftyfriday photo challenge, plus, it was the last day of 2015, so it seemed apt to mark the occasion with a few nice captures. AND, it had sort of snowed, and I hadn’t yet tackled snow with my new camera .

And we needed dog food. Our plan was to stop at the store after the walk was over.

So with all these agendas in mind, Sadie and I tramped down the stairs. I had my camera slung across my body, my wallet in my pocket, my hat and gloves on, my shoes laced, dog bags in my other pocket, phone in hand.

We reached the bottom of our little walkway to our stairs, and Sadie strained to get to the grass. I pulled off a glove and was trying to activate my tracking ap, when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a couple rounding the corner at a fast running clip. She was tall and blond and gorgeous, he was dark and cute, and they were moving well, heading our way.

In the space of a few parsecs, I realized that, because I’d stopped to play with my phone, Sadie and I were completely blocking the sidewalk, so I tugged on her leash and backed up a few steps to get out of the way. Unfortunately, backing up meant I backed in to the little landing just below the stairs.

It all happened in that Hollywood slo-mo…

I felt the cement on my ankles and thought “oh crap. I’m gonna fall. Maybe I can stop myself? Um…nope. Ok, don’t drop your phone or let go of Sadie’s leash. Oh geez, hope I don’t bang the camera…man…this is gonna be embarrassing in front of these super-graceful and attractive people.”

I heard the blond say “uh, oh…oh, oh, oh…” as she watched me go down. I’m pretty sure windmilling arms were involved, but I can’t say for sure.

I hit the ground on my butt, which is – happily in this case – quite well padded, rocked back a little bit, and then came to rest, legs stretch out in front of me like a little kid, looking up at the runners, who had slowed down enough to check on me.

“Are you ok?” the pretty blond asked me, seemingly genuinely dismayed. I searched for a hint of laughter in her face, and didn’t find it. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the guy.

I gave them my sunniest, “gee-what-a-clutz-I-am” smile, a self-deprecating laugh, and said, “Absolutely, I am just fine,” and clamored awkwardly to my feet. They went on their way, and I stood up, set my phone, put my gloves back on, checked my camera, and we went on our way. Other than a slight ache in my posterior region, it was like it never happened. Except for the laughter I’m sure the attractive running couple was enjoying.

We even remembered to get dog food.

It seemed clear that the universe was humbling me with this little incident. I couldn’t decide which life lesson it was teaching me:

1. You are not as good at multi-tasking as you think you are
2. Our smart phones really will be the death of us all
3. There are times when having some extra pounds can be a plus
4. The most important skill in life is the ability to laugh at yourself

What do you think? Happy 2016, everyone. May your falls be well cushioned in the New Year.