OK, that's enough omgroflyao!!-ing for now. People are starting to stare at you. Besides, you're going to want to save some of that laughing at another's expense for later (trust me).

So yeah, running, well running with intermittent walking to be precise. I've even been getting up in the early morn to do it! I'd give myself those nifty Elle Woods sorority snaps, but I didn't make the cut in college, so I'd probably do it wrong, and all of you 'sisters' would toss your silky hair and snicker daintily at my desperate and ill attempt at belonging during your next meeting atop Mt. Olympus, or wherever you guys congregate...I wouldn't know *sigh*

See what I mean about rambling? I warned you. This mind is a wild and wacky place when it's "on the bean."

Back to the present story: I've been running for just a few weeks, and I started out wearing a pair of older sneakers not really meant for actual exercise because, up until now, I've never had much use for functional athletic wear. Well, my shoes weren't really cutting it, and my oh-so thoughtful husband got me some flashy-woo-woo running sneakers for an early birthday present. On top of being all, like, good for your feet and stuff (boooring!), they are pretty darn cute.

I couldn't wait to christen them on the streets the next day. I wake up as soon as my alarm goes off the following morning and immediately pull on my shorts, strap on my wristwatch, and slide my tootsies into my new shoes. I then proceed to hit the streets. Things go really well for the first 15 minutes of my trek; I begin noticing my form and other "runny stuff." This makes me feel as though I am becoming more effective and skillful in my new hobby, whether it is an actual effect or not. My run is even- Do I dare say?- Enjoyable?!

My route is usually in the historic district, and this day is no different. The large old homes, each with its own era of architecture, are flanked by pristine lawns with personalities as distinct as their owners. It's truly a beautiful part of town, and a huge part of why I love it here. I'm not particularly nature-loving, but I really dig urban conservation efforts: the area allows me to ponder and pontificate freely. Here's a snippet of my train of thought as I'm soaking up my quasi-natural surroundings on this particular day:

Man, that's a pretty house. *huffhuff* (I start to pass an elderly woman walking with a cane) Wonder if she's packin' heat...*looks at wristwatch* Poooooo! I've gotta keep running for another two flippin minutes! I'll never make that-sure I will-I can do it. Hey, there's a dude riding his bike. "Hello fellow exerciser! My, your wind jacket is awfully yellow! I h-

"Huyoooph!" That's the audible noise I make before my body thuds upon the concrete.

Until that moment, I thought people only made that sound in movies containing inordinate amounts of sight gags. Turns out, I make it too when I unexpectedly hurdle through the air. After what seems like a lifetime, I make contact with the ground. Crap.

As I lay spraddled across the sidewalk, Yellow Lance Armstrong whirs by on the other side of the street, but he never looks over my way. I assume he's too absorbed in his own Tour de France fantasy to be bothered by my tragedy. I am relieved by his inattentiveness.

Still a bit dazed, I look over my shoulder to see the culprit of my tumble: a busted up piece of sidewalk. After quick survey, I find that I am relatively unscathed, save for a couple of shallow scrapes here and there. I then spend a while in deliberation: Do I dejectedly walk home like the lousy blunderer that I am? Or do I get up and hit the ground running?

In a true Rocky moment (if Rocky were a clumsy, slightly overweight, 27 yr old girl, of course), I jump up and run the rest of the way home. Actually, I wasn't all that embarrassed.

When you've fallen in public as many times as I have, you become pretty desensitized.