Left foot, right foot. and then…left foot. Right foot. Right?

We learned it when we were babies, but some of us never quite caught on fully. I’ve been a dysfunctional walker for pretty much as long as I can remember, and I’m pretty sure it’s because I have an overactive imagination. What’s the connection? Well, when you have an overactive imagination, you spend a lot of time in your head, instead of paying attention to what’s beneath and in front of you. I’m special. I don’t think my Mom ever referred to my walking abilities as special. In fact, she often referred to them as goofy, crazy, klutsy, ridiculous, silly.

She mentioned recently that she remembered me walking all over the sidewalk and she would be yelling at me to walk properly. That’s her version of the story.  My version is that I loved walking on broken up sidewalks because I would challenge myself to only walk on cracks…or only step between cracks. Always.

With walking comes standing, and crashing into things and falling down. Despite my numerous blunders, I actually don’t have that many scars. At the moment, I visibly see 3. One is a chicken pock scar. The second is one I got on my arm last month from bashing it onto a bathroom shelf of a motel. And the third, is this one:

Scarrrr

Yeah, it’s not that exciting or menacing — a scar on my knee. But it’s kind of a funny story (funny because I learned how to laugh at myself a long time ago) and it’s a little special, because I got this scar in 2010. What else did I have in 2010? A smart phone. Here’s how it all began:

Part 1 does not have a photograph, unfortunately. I was at work and walking across the street carrying some take-out Japchae. I tripped on a pothole and bailed, slamming my bag on the ground and gave myself a bloody knee and wrist. My coworkers at that place had seen me come in with a bloody knee before, so it wasn’t a huge shock – but at least they took care of me. I was happy when it healed. Less than a month later…

It was the summer of 2010 – my first summer with my boyfriend who lived a block away from the beach and loved spending most evenings there. Summer Lovin’, had me a blast. We would have dinners, go for walks and talk a lot about growing up. One evening, we were playing pass with a soccer ball on the grass at the beach on an area that was slightly sloped. I was running to catch the ball, saw that it was headed for a stranger’s blanket (bad bad bad), so I took a rolling dive to save them, and banged up my knee. You can see the still healing scar from my lunchtime bail on the left.

Ouch!

There was a bit of blood, but it was mostly swollen and really sore for a quite some time. I was limpy for days, but again, I survived. I took a vow to be more careful and not play ball games on sloped areas. Not too long after it healed, I was out with friends celebrating Philippines Day on Main Street. It was a blistery hot day and I was soaking in the sun…likely more than I should have. After having an enjoyable afternoon with a friend, I started to walk down Main Street towards the Skytrain station. While crossing a street (not a busy one, luckily) I bailed. Hard. I hit my head on the road and was in shock. I sat on the road thinking — how could I do this again?! Someone helped me to the side of the road, I sat on the grass and called my bestie to come pick me up. I was actually shaky and teary, which is not normal for me. I took this while I was waiting for my rescue chariot. Gross.

Mega Ouch!

I hope I’m not completely jinxing myself for posting about this – because I was pretty darn good last summer and I hope to continue to be so this summer. Wish me luck!!!