I'm a klutz. We know that. So, last night I had a really good wipe out that wasn't even my fault. I was leaving Blue Smoke - stone sober I'd like to add - and slipped like something out of a cartoon. There was a grease slick on the floor and I guess I walked right into it. My heels couldn't take it and my legs flew out from under me. I went down in slow motion.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, I thought, now where would I like to fall? I've heard not to soften a tumble with your hand, because you're liable to break a wrist. I didn't want to land straight on my tail bone. Doesn't everyone learn that hard lesson when they're roller skating as a kid? So I twisted a bit, mid-air, and managed to come down hard on my right side. My hip and shoulder felt like they made contact first. After that, my knee and head crashed down into the cement floor.
It wasn't until I was already lying there prone that I thought of running, and whether this would mess me up for the Half Marathon. People were asking if I was alright. I said yes, because in the moment that seemed like what I was supposed to say; but then when I tried to get up, I couldn't. I lifted my head because I had a sense that my urge to nap immediately probably wasn't a good idea. Eventually, I reached up and took somebody's hand, mostly to make them feel better. I really wanted to just lie there.
Then, we were out into the cold night, grabbing a taxi home. Nothing felt broken. I looked down at my shoe. The heel cap had broken off in the accident. I figured I'd take an Advil and be up in the morning to do my 4M run. I was just in shock, right? Unfortunately, that's not how it went down. I woke up with a massive headache the next morning, and a swollen arm. My hip felt weird Achy. Tender. Vulnerable. I was so fuzzy I actually went to work on a freezing day without a coat and put the same shoes on from the night before - the ones with the missing heel cap.
At lunch, I ran out to the shoemaker who gave the heel a curious review. He showed me - there was a problem. The metal post had snapped off inside the heel so he'd have to do some heavy extraction work before a new cap could be inserted. Kind of like root canal. The shoes were a pair of Prada low pumps I've had for at least 6 years. I bought them second hand at a consignment shop for about $150, never worn. Over the years, they've been resoled, polished, heeled, tapped, and relined more times than I could possibly remember; and they always come back looking simply perfect as new. This might have been the fall that ended our "value" party. And let me just say - I don't know if Prada still makes a well constructed shoe, but in 2004, they sure as hell did.
I waited patiently, checking my email, balancing on one foot, periodically peering in at the team taking to my heel with cobbler's tools. "How's it going?" I asked after about 10 minutes, suddenly wondering what this would cost. The guys just smiled at me and then one disappeared into the back. When he came back, he was holding... a power drill. Um, wait a minute!
One held the shoe down while the other braced himself against the bench and pushed down with the whirring drill. Even this didn't make the job easy; they toiled for what seemed like another 10 minutes. Maybe it was. I started writing notes in my BlackBerry about things I had to follow up on later in the day. I made a call. I checked Gmail. They were still working! "No luck?" I asked. "Oh no! We'll get it!" the shorter of the pair chirped back confidently. It suddenly occurred to me that this was probably the most fun they'd had all day. All signs of "Prada" have been wiped from the shoe with the various sole and insole replacements, but I think they could tell this was a pair worth saving. "It's Italian. We know what to do!" the lead guy reassured me. And they weren't kidding. Finally, the metal pin was worn down to dust, and the second in command finished it up with a new heel cap and a polish. Good as new. For the grand total of $5. Oh, the Prada...
As for my right side, I'm sure I will be fine in a day or so, but even now, I'm feeling fragile. No matter all the work I'm doing to bolster my construction - to be Prada-like on the inside - I'm still a big old klutz. Right now I want to curl up and be safe, quiet and still for a long while. I will try to make my 4 mile run up tomorrow; but then I've got 6-7 scheduled for Sunday. Looks like this might be just another reinforcement of the intenSati theme we're exploring this month: "Sit. Stay. Heal." (or "Heel" as it were!).
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