I saw a sign that said "falling rocks," so I tried and it doesn't.

This post was supposed to be about this killer track workout I did...the one where I ran 16 400m repeats at alternating 7:00/7:20 paces and how badass I felt.

Instead this is a post about how I took a killer fall on one of the most familiar trails I run.

I didn't even want to run. Wednesday training days have been time consuming--I run 3-5 miles, go to a weight lifting class and then a 75 minute yoga class. I get very hungry.

I had considered moving my run to Friday, which would mean I would have no "complete rest" day, which I 100% believe in and live for. Then I told myself, "no, no, don't get in the habit of moving workouts around now. You have no excuse NOT to run."

Well. Look at what happens when you try to be dedicated to the training plan.

I must have tripped on the rutted out trails. I've noticed for a few weeks that the trails have been rockier than normal, likely a result of the crazy Presidio winds and high tourist traffic.

I sat there for a minute (after pausing my watch, naturally) to get my bearings back. Yep, that was a hole in my Nikes tights. Yep, that was a rock sticking out of my knee (and yep, I pulled it out, forgetting EVERYTHING I've learned about first aid). Yeah, I had little skin on my palm. Nope, nothing felt broken.

A guy in a really nice car stopped on the side of the road and asked if I was okay. "I saw you bang your head," he said. I didn't know I had hit my head so I kinda stared at him in response. "Are you okay?" he asked again. I said "yeah I think so, but can you drive me about a quarter mile home?"

As I shut the door to his car, I thought to myself "oh, you definitely hit your head. You are in a car with a stranger." And then I rationalized it, "it's okay. He offered help. He's not a predator. This is a lot like a Lyft ride. I hope this isn't how it ends."

I got into my apartment and jumped in the bath to try to rinse of blood and grit. The gash on my knee looked particularly deep so I called Kaiser and within a few minutes had an appointment with the urgent care doctor in South SF.

Sure, I could drive myself. What's that they say about concussions?

Man, did it hurt to have this doctor digging away at the grit and grime with his little scissors and tweezers. I absolutely shed the involuntary "oh my god why does this hurt so much" tears when the nurse scrubbed at me with a sponge. "It's not coming out!" she whined as the doctor wiped the tears from my face with gauze pads.

The doctor decided that stitches weren't necessary and would ruin my chance to get back to running quickly. He prescribed two solid days off and "take next week easy."

I guess I should be grateful that nothing is broken. Everything is bruised and it's only the first day. It is very difficult to do much with a gaping wound on your dominant hand. And the nurse has left hair all over the apartment, which makes it hard to keep the wounds clean.

but damn my legs are skinny

Way too much excitement for a Wednesday afternoon when I didn't even feel like running anyway.