A split second before I tripped, I'd thought about how easy this section of the trail felt.

At Francis Beatty Park, the trail has a lot of roots.

A LOT.

And some of them, I swear, were specially designed to catch your toes and put you on the ground.

But it makes for an interesting run, even if you have to pay more attention than you do when running on pavement.

It's not super hard, but you do have to step up, jump over, or otherwise get around a lot of roots. You'll catch your toe and wind up on your ass if you're not careful.

So I am about 3 miles in on a long, flat section. It's a beautiful morning, with birds chirping, squirrels playing, and rays of sunshine threaded through the trees.

Hardly anyone else is around, so I've got the place to myself, and I'm having a great time.

"This is easy," I thought, "I haven't tripped once today."

A few years back, I had the same thought on a mountain bike trail outside of Brevard. I'd spent the day riding the Farlow Gap trail, among the most difficult in the Pisgah Forest.

At the end, it connects to Daniel's Ridge Trail, which takes you back to the parking lot.

I was zipping along that trail, thinking how easy it was compared to Farlow, and having a great time. Then, suddenly, I was over my bars laid out on the ground.

Well, same deal this morning.

I was on Easy Street, not paying enough attention, and I clipped a root that sent me flailing and nearly tumbling to the ground.

I spent the rest of the morning thinking about all the times that's happened to me.

Like how I was cruising along another Easy Street back in 2000, making what seemed to be a lot of easy money, and then out of the blue, the Dot Com crash happened and sent me flailing.

Or how in 2007 - my 2nd year of having a real estate license - I moved to Union County, NC, when it was the 15th fastest growing county in the US. Once again, I was on Easy Street, and then the Housing Crash happened and sent me flailing.

When things are going well, we tend to coast.

We think we're on Easy Street, so we stop paying attention.

We stop looking for danger.

We assume that tomorrow will be the same as today.

And then, out of nowhere, BAM! Something comes along and knocks us on our asses.

Things have been going well recently as I work towards getting all the pieces in place to make Ten-Ten-Ten a reality.

But there are some areas where I've been coasting, and things seem relatively easy.

That root this morning was a good reminder.

That things are going well today does not mean things will go well tomorrow.

Even on a stretch of Easy Street, you have to be ready for the hidden obstacles that will be there to trip you up.

A split second before I tripped, I'd thought about how easy this section of the trail felt.

At Francis Beatty Park, the trail has a lot of roots.

A LOT.

And some of them, I swear, were specially designed to catch your toes and put you on the ground.

But it makes for an interesting run, even if you have to pay more attention than you do when running on pavement.

It's not super hard, but you do have to step up, jump over, or otherwise get around a lot of roots. You'll catch your toe and wind up on your ass if you're not careful.

So I am about 3 miles in on a long, flat section. It's a beautiful morning, with birds chirping, squirrels playing, and rays of sunshine threaded through the trees.

Hardly anyone else is around, so I've got the place to myself, and I'm having a great time.

"This is easy," I thought, "I haven't tripped once today."

A few years back, I had the same thought on a mountain bike trail outside of Brevard. I'd spent the day riding the Farlow Gap trail, among the most difficult in the Pisgah Forest.

At the end, it connects to Daniel's Ridge Trail, which takes you back to the parking lot.

I was zipping along that trail, thinking how easy it was compared to Farlow, and having a great time. Then, suddenly, I was over my bars laid out on the ground.

Well, same deal this morning.

I was on Easy Street, not paying enough attention, and I clipped a root that sent me flailing and nearly tumbling to the ground.

I spent the rest of the morning thinking about all the times that's happened to me.

Like how I was cruising along another Easy Street back in 2000, making what seemed to be a lot of easy money, and then out of the blue, the Dot Com crash happened and sent me flailing.

Or how in 2007 - my 2nd year of having a real estate license - I moved to Union County, NC, when it was the 15th fastest growing county in the US. Once again, I was on Easy Street, and then the Housing Crash happened and sent me flailing.

When things are going well, we tend to coast.

We think we're on Easy Street, so we stop paying attention.

We stop looking for danger.

We assume that tomorrow will be the same as today.

And then, out of nowhere, BAM! Something comes along and knocks us on our asses.

Things have been going well recently as I work towards getting all the pieces in place to make Ten-Ten-Ten a reality.

But there are some areas where I've been coasting, and things seem relatively easy.

That root this morning was a good reminder.

That things are going well today does not mean things will go well tomorrow. So even when I feel like I'm on a stretch of Easy Street, I'll be looking out for the hidden obstacles that will be there to trip me up.