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The weather is finally showing semblances of spring here in New Haven, and for me, that means one thing: I can run outside again. Seriously, I’m like an excitable puppy about this–the hills, the fresh air, the trees make me stupidly happy and I never, ever, want to come back inside.

But there is one snag in this joyous transition. And it comes in the form of uneven pavement, located in the sidewalk outside of  the Yale Hockey rink. As usual, my foot caught this bit, and I went flying forward. It took me a second to regain my balance, but I did, and my run continued.

That spot always messes with me. It was the spot where I fell and skinned my knee the week my mother died, it was the spot where I fell and bruised my knee after an article I wrote was rejected. And this spring was no different: it caught my foot, and I went flying forward.

Yet, this time I didn’t fall.

Yes, I was caught off balance, but I didn’t fall. And I think there is a lesson in that.