Battle Wounds

Let me set the scene.

It was a sunny, warm 56 degrees and I was nearing only a mile into my lunch-break run. I was excited to be running outside in my favorite capri's and it had been a great weekend to reflect on. People were enjoying the sun with windows down and it felt good to be pounding the pavement with some perfect music. Life was good.

And then it happened.

I don't really remember what I stubbed my toe on, but as I was falling down, a few thoughts rushed through my mind. 

* Please God don't let me knock out any teeth.

(I have a weird fear about that)

* Don't land on your phone and break it.

* Definitely will be blogging about this.

* Please don't end up on youtube.

As I reached for my mace, I noticed my bloody palm and thought meh, not bad. Pushing myself into a sitting position, however, I pulled back my pant legs to reveal a bloody mess on my knee and then the pain began. I couldn't stand just yet as the shock of it all had me shaky like I could pass out. There was also a string of cars about to pass by in which, I knew, at least one would stop and help me up. I mean, who drives by a bleeding girl with tears streaming down her face?

Um... apparently everyone.

I soon realized no one was stopping and my heart broke. Who sees that and keeps driving? I ended up pulling myself to standing and hobbling in the nearest door. It was a local chocolate shop with the sweetest employee who dropped everything and helped me to a chair. She ran to get items from their first aid kit, offered me water and chocolates and chatted with me to help me calm down. I'm sure the embarrassment combined with the fact my pants were trash led to why I was crying, but in my heart of hearts, I knew it was pure disappointment in the community. It wasn't like I expected people to jump out and rush me to the hospital, but a nice "are you ok?" would have sufficed. 

After I hobbled home, I patched up what I could and cried some more. A lot. It was odd how hard cried but I couldn't shake how mad I was at everyone who passed by. With words of encouragement from friends, and neosporin on the wounds, it was back to work for me. Derek did swimming lessons with Drew as I knew I couldn't handle the chlorine-on-an-open-gash pain and tylenol has helped somewhat. Thankfully, my friend McWhiskey also decided to join the pity party and is currently taking away all of my pain as I type this post. Sometimes he's all I need in life.

And now, the battle wounds. Rated PG-13.

Much worse than in 2009 wouldn't you say? Stupid clumsiness.

Personal plea: If you see a runner fall, please pull over and make sure they are ok. It's just common courtesy people.