A nasty moment

I've been running almost every day while I've been here in Alexandria.

Enjoying the route along the river and back through Old Town; not enjoying the physical enfeeblement that is making even this modest (for me, for my aspirations!) little circuit of 8 or 9 miles impossible for me to finish without frequent rest stops.

And I did suffer a severely unsettling experience on the very first of these runs.

I tripped.

Heaven knows how. I retraced my steps to the spot and examined the ground carefully. There did not appear to be any significant gap or unevenness of the paving slabs; no obstruction of any kind. It felt like I'd been brought down by a tripwire - but I guess somehow I must have just tripped over my own feet. Perhaps it was divine retribution for my ogling the backside of a young woman who'd just whizzed past me on a mountain bike....

Anyway, I was done for. I was going down fast and hard. On to concrete. I knew I was going to break something - collarbone, wrist, kneecaps, face. It was one of those moments where your lack of medical insurance flashes before your eyes.

Luckily, I was running alongside a railing of tubular metal. I instinctively flung out my right forearm against one of the uprights (I might well have broken the arm, but it seemed the lesser of two evils), and was able to slow my downward plunge just enough to pull my feet back under me with a couple of lightning-quick extra steps (two desperate, stumbling, off-balance steps that strained the ball of my right foot and the outside of my left knee rather badly) and avoid the catastrophic faceplant.

Not a pleasant experience.

I wonder if a little bit of post-traumatic stress about that incident is corrupting my metabolism still, diminishing my performance, "putting me off my stride".

It must be something - because at this rate, I'm never going to make the Beijing Marathon this October. Damn, damn, damn. What is wrong with me??