Cracks in the Sidewalk

Yesterday I went for a walk along the lake.It was warm enough for shorts, which felt like a gift this time of year.

As I walked the path, I noticed something I hadn’t paid attention to before. The sidewalk that surrounds the entire park had major cracks caused by the huge tree roots beneath it. Over the years, those roots had pushed up through the concrete, leaving the path uneven and broken in places.

The city had spray-painted these cracks red to draw attention to the hazards that await pedestrians.

I’ve walked that park for twelve years. The cracks have always been there—along with the spray paint, I suppose. I probably noticed them before, but 12 years ago, I didn’t think much of them.

About a month ago, I accidentally tripped on the edge of a cement step at the dog park. I went down hard, slamming the left side of my face and knee on the cement.

It took me some time to recover. I have a smartwatch, and it notified my emergency contacts and first responders. It scared me.

An elderly couple saw me fall and came into the dog park to help. I was bleeding from my face and nose. The gentleman offered me a clean handkerchief and stayed with me until help arrived. They were very kind.

A friend who lives in town was listed as one of my emergency contacts. She called to check on me, and within minutes, she arrived at the park and drove me—and my van—home.

My nephew in Nevada called within seconds of the fall. He asked if I was alright. That’s when I realized my smartwatch automatically notifies the people you’ve listed as emergency contacts.

I had a touch of vertigo for a few days. My face healed quickly, but my knee took much longer.

Since that fall, I’ve been paying more attention to where I step.

So yesterday, as I walked around the lake, I noticed the cracks in the sidewalk in a way I never had before. Some of them were raised about a quarter of an inch above the surface, creating a real tripping hazard. The city had sprayed red paint on them to draw attention for those walking, biking, or skating. It reminded me of my recent fall… and how vulnerable we become as we age.

But if I’m honest, there was a time in my life when I wasn’t watching the ground at all.I was watching the people around me.

I listened for snickers from passing teenagers. I watched for cars that slowed down, people leaning out the window to make pig noises as they drove by.

I began to not want to go outside or walk anywhere near a busy street.

I was slower than my friends. They would tell me to walk faster, take bigger steps.All I could focus on was how fat I was, and how awkward I felt being out in public—waiting to be ridiculed by strangers.

Somewhere along the way, that changed.

It takes a few falls—metaphorically and literally—to become aware of real dangers… and to recognize what is simply noise.

Recently, I made a Spotify playlist filled with songs about being strong, capable, independent, and grateful for what I have.

I walk with more confidence now, blocking out the human voices that may be insulting or rude.

I walk with my dog, who always gets noticed, and I smile as we pass by.

At the same time, I’m very aware of those cracks in the sidewalk. I’ve been to that park hundreds of times. I know the area.

I’ve even started looking for new places to walk—different terrain—always mindful of where I step.

The cracks were always there. I just wasn’t paying attention to the right things.

There was a time when I watched people and ignored the ground beneath me.

Now, I don’t pay as much attention to people… but I do watch where I step.

And I walk anyway.