Warning! This Post Contains Pictures of Gross Bloody Things.

As some of you may know I like to run, and coincidentally I'm sort of clumsy. Now, up until today I had managed to avoid falling or tripping (ok, so I trip a lot. but not dangerous tripping, just oops who put that curb there tripping) for the last several years. It could be because I'm not very fast, actually I'm frequently (read: always) passed up by all kinds of different runners, and occasionally a few swift walkers.

So, I managed to go the entire Chicago winter, running on black ice without eating it. I managed to train for a marathon where I would sometimes be running for four or five hours at a time, without falling to the pavement. I managed to run up the gd hills of the San Francisco Marathon without spilling over. (Yes, I fell on the Golden Gate Bridge just five miles into it, but I don't count that because that Venezuelan woman tripped me - ON PURPOSE - or maybe not on purpose but she wasn't sorry about it at all) But then today . . . TODAY I go for a slow, three mile run and two blocks into it I trip over a crack in the sidewalk and skid along the concrete for about a mile. I was only going like 4.5 miles an hour, and I'm pretty sure I managed to scream several cuss words out before I actually hit the ground but for some reason that seemed to be enough to do this:



This is going to look incredibly attractive in a tank top. If you need me, I'll be the girl wearing long sleeves in the 85 degree weather watching every little step she takes*, and possibly jogging with a walker for safety next time.



















*you will be there.