Bad things that can happen while running

A few years ago, shortly after I had just started running, I tripped on a ridge in the sidewalk about a mile from my apartment and fell. I busted my knee open and got pretty good scrapes on both hands, and had to walk home bruised, bloody, and feeling very sorry for myself. At the time I was pretty convinced it was a sign that I wasn't supposed to be a runner. For whatever reason I didn't quit, but only within the last few months of running a lot and running consistently have I started to break my habit of staring at the ground 2 feet in front of me for fear of tripping and falling again.

The habit may come back. Yesterday morning I was feeling very good as I started my 4 mile run. I was very proud of getting myself out the door when it was cold and dark, and I felt like I had good energy, that it was going to be a good run. That is, until about a half mile into the run I was enjoying the scenery a little to much and tripped on the sidewalk. Luckily I didn't fall or twist anything, I managed to right myself and keep on running. Then about a quarter of a mile after that, I passed by a house and a large, angry looking dog started to chase after me. We have a serious problem with unleashed dogs in our neighborhood - so serious that I've often considered buying a special type of dog mace to carry with me just in case. But of course I've never gotten around to buying it and figure that with all the wind here, it's just as likely that if I ever tried to spray anything (or anyone) that it would just get blown back in my face. Just as I was about to stop and turn around and stare down this dog, he headed back to his house. I was nevertheless starting to feel like my run might be cursed.

I finished the remainder of my run without incident, though. But those two things and a post that my friend Beka wrote about running safety got me thinking. The interesting thing about running is that it seems like it should be a very safe sport - there are no flying balls to contend with, no sticks or bats or other weapon-like objects to face, no full-body contact, and yet when we run we expose ourselves to all sorts of danger and often don't think about it. How many of us run without a cell phone, because we don't have a good place to put it? (Seriously, clothing manufacturers - make running clothes with pockets, please). Or because we don't want the extra baggage? How many of us run without any form of ID on us? (Road ID is a godsend). How many of us tell someone exactly where we're going and when to expect us back before we head out the door? How many of us contend with obnoxious drivers in cars and trucks that just refuse to move over and make room for us, or worse actually drive closer to us because they think that it's funny or they think we have no right to be on the road? How many of us have had to face an unfriendly dog because its owners failed to keep the dog properly confined to a yard or on a leash? How many of us run in the dark at least on occasion because we have no other choice?

I don't know what the answer to any of those problems is. I do know that I'm glad to have my Road ID, and I'm very glad that I got a headlamp and a clip-on pouch to carry my cell phone for Christmas so that I can always carry it with me when I'm running. I wish there was something I could do to get drivers at least in my neighborhood to start treating runners with more respect, especially because there are no sidewalks on many of our streets. I wish I could convince people in our neighborhood to keep their overly agressive dogs on leashes or confined to fenced-in yards. I wish I could convince the city council where I live to install more street lamps so that those of us who run in the evening would feel just a little safer. The more that I run, the more I think that we runners don't get enough respect for the elements that we deal with day in and day out.