Being Derbied by Running

The Olympics are over. Have the tears dried?

I was so inspired during the Olympics, seeing the life time goals reached by these incredible athletes, tears streaming, heavy sobs of joy as golds were attained...and the athletes seemed excited too!  By now all of you should realize I am a crier. This joy was juxtaposed to dreams dashed like raw eggs against a wall, tears of agony on their faces. OK, and yes mine too.

One particular athlete I was moved by, was Morgan Uceny. She tripped on the last lap of the 1500M final just as she was poised to take off from the pack, Olympic goals coming into her sights, only to trip and end up on her knees sobbing; absolute heart break.

I had a special connection to Uceny as I have "derbied" several times on long off road runs. Derbied is a term I have given to my particular style of flailing into the dirt. One of my all time favorite people, Lindsey,  plays Roller Derby and having been to some of her bouts, I have seen girls fly in a way that looked like it was more than painful! Derby falling is not just the usual fall onto the hands and knees, but is face crushing spills that wrack the body into strange contortions. This is the style in which I seem to fall on my runs...thus "Derbied".

I have derbied twice, tripped many times, but nothing is quite like the derby fall. Blood, busing and swelling are absolute results. I once fell so hard on my chest that the wind was knocked out of me and all I could think was 'wow, glad I don't have those fake boobies yet!'. The other derbied fall gave me the fun task of running the 6 miles back to the car with bleeding hands, knees and my left hip. I had to have looked like I had been attacked by a bear. Sweat had swept the streaming blood into a swirl down my legs, arms and through my clothes. It seemed only natural to tell my husband, who watched the fall and subsequent hemorrhaging, "Ya, that's right, go derby!" followed by a list of possible derby names that included wine puns or running puns. I think those 6 miles back to the car were very long for him. Amazingly I didn't cry! My supreme wit must have taken up all the juices left in my body.

Morgan Uceny wasn't "derbied" in quite the same way, but lets face it, falling in the final lap at the Olympic finals is a pride crushing, emotionally wracking event that would leave anyone in contortions of pain and bewilderment.

I hope someone had a lot of wine ready and waiting for her.

I recommend our new Riesling for wounded pride, our Refosco for emotional pain and our '09 Syrah for all contortions of pain.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com