Janet thought the snap was a tree branch, as her right foot, at full running stride, plunged into a pothole and remained there, while she abruptly collapsed down onto it.
I didn’t hear the crack but saw the results: her foot turned at an angle that suggested a very bad break.
The moment was sickening for a whole whack of reasons – my friend’s searing pain, the odd angle of her foot (gut wrenching for any runner who fears leg injuries); and then, finally, the terrifying realization that we were in the worst possible place on our day-break run for this accident to occur: a remote stretch of the Don Valley running trail, a kilometre from the nearest stairs leading up to a bridge and help.
And we were without a cell phone.
That was our second mistake.
About eight minutes earlier we stood on the walking bridge that joins the west and east Riverdale Parks, looking down at our usual route along the path by the river, which was covered in thick snowy slush. We contemplated taking the road, but dissed that option as if it for wimps and decided to risk getting soakers.
That would be our first mistake: That we risked far more than soakers when we did not base our decision, first, on safety.
Sometimes – too often — we runners feel so strong, so invincible, like superheroes who can extend the range of a car because we can run a half marathon or marathon distance to fetch gas should that mere machine run out of fuel in the middle of nowhere.
Tuesday morning reminded me that a) we should always carry a cell phone, even while running with friends b) we are not invincible; our bones do break c) Toronto may be a big city yet we constantly run into remote wild spots or even dodgy urban pockets that put us out of reach of easy help.
Our usual group was slimmed out that morning – by illness, injuries and yucky weather – leaving just the three of us, but thankfully, there were three of us.
Imagine yourself with a running buddy too hurt to walk, in a remote area, on a path so slushy or icy that others are unlikely to pass by to offer help. And you have to decide whether to leave your pal behind in the snow and cold – while she gets hypothermic and possibly even goes into shock – or stay with her and risk having no one pass by to help.
At least we didn’t have to make that sickening decision. Janis stayed with Janet, packing snow onto her fast-swelling ankle, while I ran back to call an ambulance and fetch Janis’ kids’ toboggan to use as a rescue sled. I grabbed a sleeping bag along the way to keep Janet warm and, as I ran back by Riverdale Farm, flagged down a runner on the street – I feared how Janet might be by the time I returned and wanted all the help we could get.
As we ran across Riverdale Park to the bridge, I asked this good Samaritan stranger if she might be able to help pull a toboggan.
“I just came back from Crossfit, dragging tractor tires across the floor,” she said.
Finally, a lucky break to follow the bad break. Mystery woman also came up with the great idea of pulling Janet down to the Queen/King bridge where the stairs led up to the street, more accessible for the ambulance than the Riverdale bridge. Having another brain along in an emergency can be as important as a strong pair of Amazon legs.
We got Janet into the sleeping bag and onto the sled, and we took turns pulling as we ran her down to the bridge where paramedics met us. Janet was unbelievably gutsy through the whole ordeal, smiling and even laughing through pain as she hopped up a good part of those stairs because, let’s just say those paramedics who were supposed to be carrying her could use a dose of Coach E’s training.
But within the hour, Janet was in the hospital with X-rays being taken of her ankle – a bad break and several fractures that will require surgery to set. Even after hearing that, Janet was still cracking jokes. Two of them: She has an Around the Bay bib to give away; and she took this bullet for our Tuesday morning run group, knowing it could have been any of us hitting that pothole lurking under the slush.
After Janet was safe, I was still shaky. I could not stop replaying the morning drama in my mind. Yes, our running pulled off the rescue mission – but our running decisions got us into the trouble that necessitated the rescue.
Lessons? I will now make my cell phone part of my running gear, and safety will be the first decision I make on any run.
Janet – we wish you speedy healing. And please, no more tough lessons from you.
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