Funny story alert.

I took a spill down Koko Crater when I went hiking last week. Most people would feel bad for me, but I'm telling you that you can laugh.

I did. Loudly.

At one moment I was running down the train tracks, and then the next I was doing a hands-first baseball dive down a couple of steps near the bottom of the mountain.

I mean, I would have been called safe if I was sliding into second, third and home all at once. I really think I glide-bounced, which I'm not entirely sure is possible, but I think I accomplished it.

I actually said "Ooof" as I landed on my stomach and pelvic bone and bounced down the steps. I was listening to my iPod nano, and I could hear my own exclamation over the music.

What's worse, a gentleman and his two young children who were coming down the stairs behind me witnessed the whole thing. Now, I'm not embarrassed that they saw me fall, but the look of concern on the man's face as I was dusting myself off made me feel bad.

His young son told me, "I fell down, too." And he had matching dirt from the top of his shirt to the bottom of his shorts like I did. I would have given him a high-five but I was kind of sore.

As I write this I have to hold my hands up in the air because both of my palms are roughed up. It's kind of making the muscles in my upper arms hurt.

The palm scratches are just part of the injuries that stretch from my hands to my elbows; then there are the ones that go from my knees to my upper thighs.

Now, I'm not a clumsy person. However ...

There was that one time when I fell down on the 50-yard line of Aloha Stadium when I was chasing down a coach during a high school football game.

And once I tripped while walking across Punchbowl Street, and my slipper must have caught a crack in the street because I did the whole running-10-steps-to-catch-myself thing in front of all the cars waiting to make the left turn and drive right past me.

Oh, and there was the time when I slipped down the stairs at the Campus Center at the University of Hawai'i.

But the worst thing about those falls was that I had no one to share them with.

During this latest experience with seeing the ground up close, at least my friend Jon was with me. I managed to yell out his name — he was already near the bottom — and he ran back up. (Poor guy. Those steps are hard.)

Just having him there to rehash the fall with made the pain feel less severe.

I'm the kind of person who needs to share the story behind the pain and laugh at myself, because really, what else is there to do?

I figure if I'm able to make fun of my accident, then maybe I won't be scared to try those stairs again. I'd rather save myself from the emotional scars.

I have enough physical ones.

Reach Leila Wai at lwai@honoluluadvertiser.com.