Falling Upward in Freezing Rain
On calculated risks, creative resilience, and the importance of self-compassion
Environment Canada said on its site: “Warning: freezing rain projected for the Montreal region. Possible harm to people, animals and vehicles.” I put on my morning jacket and went outside to have a look around. All of the cars were covered in a layer of ice.
And I thought — perfect morning for a 16k run.
I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea.
I have been training for a half marathon for the past four months. I’m a hypochondriac and an anxious person, in and out of therapy and on and off meds, treating what ranges from health anxiety, sleep disorders, panic attacks, obsessive compulsive disorder to social anxiety.
But I like taking chances, for whatever reason. Calculated risks is just part of who I am as a human being, as a designer, as a business owner, as a worker. And, as a recipient of OCD, I’m a committed soul — once an idea is in my head, it’s hard to shake it out.
So I strapped on my cleated, piss-covered sneakers (thanks, Peter, the cat) and the rest of my outdoor gear and made a run for it.
The first five kilometres were great. I decided to stick to the areas around Parc La Fontaine, which were relatively clear of sleet and ice. Salted and gravelly, the parks service in Montreal does a good job of maintaining both walkways and bikeways.
I was impressed with myself, a rare and irregular event. Here was I, outsmarting la météo, running at a good clip on sidewalks and pathways, getting to my 16k. I knew I could do it. I had faith and fortuity on my side.
Around the 5.5k mark, I recall waving a friendly hello to another runner and then noticing a particularly icy patch of the sidewalk. I slowed down and then sped up and then fell down.
Knees. Then hands. Then head.
I’m an idiot.
I thought I could outsmart Mother Nature.
My human proclivities met my animal reality. Hubris to hurt.
End of my run.
I’m okay. I walked back home, on the grass, worried about a bad concussion, or worse. My face was messed up, my glasses crooked, and my knees a little worse for wear. But I’m okay.
And I’m also not. I have to rest for a few days. I may have scared myself off of running the half. I frightened myself and my poor wife. I am dizzier than I am usually, which I have to keep an eye on now.
I’m angry at myself for taking what amounted to a calculated risk in which the likelihood of negative impact was far higher in severity than the potential, projected payoff. Had I waited until the afternoon. Had I run more slowly. Had I stuck to one path instead of a few. Had I slowed down.
I am not sure of the point.
I am writing this because I think it’s important that we take chances in a risk averse culture. I think it’s important that artists and designers demand more of themselves than they do of others. I think it’s important that we challenge our own beliefs, assumptions and attitudes.
But to do it without kindness to ourselves and our loved ones, forgetting the frailty of our bodies and our future selves, is also wrongheaded and misdirected. I blame myself and laud the stupidity of the effort. What drove me to potential calamity?
The lessons are still unfolding — and I don’t want to make more of this than it is or was — but a few final thoughts, for now.
Taking a chance on yourself is the best investment you will make. My accountant told me this years ago and it was the best advice any accountant could give.
Failing is a bug, not a feature, of falling. At my advancing age, the job is to tell the truth. Failure is mostly an act of deception and self-perception.
We are both stronger and weaker than we believe. It’s okay to be both. And it’s okay to not yet recognize our strengths and weaknesses, too.
Yours,
Image of the week
I have yet to give up on Instagram for one reason — there is so much important, beautiful, outrageous work continuously presented there. A few months ago, my daughter introduced me to the work of David Szauder, a Hungarian artist that has built his own generative AI models to create synthetic, trans-humanist worlds that combine historical photography and video with modern musical tropes and cool dance moves. If you have a few minutes or hours, take a look at what he is building. It is mesmerizing, memorable, momentous — and makes me ask questions that will have no answers.
Quote of the week
I'm all about taking chances. You have to ask yourself, if you're not taking any chances, are you actually even living? Every time you walk out of your door and you're out in the world, you take a chance on not coming back. That is the danger and the dynamic of being alive.
~ CeeLo Green
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Forgive yourself and keep on going (but on the grass, or the chip trails!). It’s the same as when we make a mistake with a client. We kick ourselves, cringe, and feel stupid. We get up for work the next day and know have learned something valuable.
I'm finally getting around to reading some of your posts — an apt indicator of what my life is like these days, given how much I enjoy them. I really hope you're feeling 100% healed in the head; I live in fear of falling...I suppose it's the movie-like quality of "just when it was all going so well..."