The first time I ever truly had the wind knocked out of myself happened when I was a kid (probably 8 or younger), in one of those ‘seemed like a good idea at the time’ moments. For me, climbing trees was less a hobby and more a pseudo-profession (you know, for an 8-year-old). I had climbed, or at least attempted to climb, every tree in our yard, but there was a tree at the bottom of our street that I hadn’t climbed. I realized this one day, perched high in a chestnut tree at the end of backyard and decided that this foolishness had to end. I would climb it!
It was the classic tree-climbers tree. The lowest branch was parallel to the ground and required a good jump to grab. Next I had to swing my legs around the branch (making me look like a scrawny pig on a spit). Done. Now what? There goes my grip and, of course, my legs weren’t in the best position to catch me and I landed flat on my back. As far as I remember, it didn’t hurt, it just scared Continue reading