I went for a run a couple of days ago.
Just me and my dog.
Beautiful sunshine and that early morning calmness that fuels the rest of my day.
I started on the path along the beach and within a few minutes I found myself stumbling and falling.
A proper fall.
Arms in front of me.
The knee scraping along the way.
A sensation that I had not had since I was a young lad back in Italy, where falls like these were daily occurrences.
I got up and immediately looked around me to see if anyone saw me.
What a strange thing to do.
There was nobody around and I knew that.
However the muscle memory must have reconnected the fall with the laughs and the jeerings we used to have at each other's expenses when it happened.
I reassured myself that my pride was intact and looked at my scraped knee - when was the last time I had one of them?
I have to admit, I was a bit shook - I am 6'3" and not a lightweight!! - and I considered turning around and walk back the few hundred metres and forget about running for the day.
But something - adrenaline? - kicked in and I started running with a renewed purpose.
Running to relieve the pain in my knee?
Running to prove to myself that it's important to dust yourself off and keep going?
Or just running because a fall like that was a pretty normal thing all those years ago and what's the difference now?
Yes, I am older, heavier and ...
That's it really.
So as I ran I let myself go down memory lane.
Remember all those interminable games of football on the streets when a bloody knee was a sign of commitment, when falling face first and getting up again to finish the race or the game of tag, was fun.
I run one of my fastest 5km in a while.
Most of it with a smile on my face.
And as I reached the end of it, Villagers came on the playlist and the beautiful song that is Courage.
I love that song.
In harmony with something other than your ego
The sweet belief of knowing nothing comes for free
It's a feeling like no other"