I went running the other day on my favorite local unpaved, woodsy trail. Then...my foot caught a root or a rock and I ate dirt. I slid in the dirt like a baseball player.
On the plus side:
1. No one saw me fall (yay for secluded woods).
2. I have some cool battle scars. The first day I essentially had a 2nd kneecap on my right leg. But otherwise unharmed.
3. At least a fall in this context makes more sense than falling off an unmoving carousel.
4. I felt like G.I. Jane when I shook it off and kept running all bloodied (not too bad), bruised and covered in dirt.
5. For the number of times I've gone running in general and running on this particular trail, statistically speaking it was about time I suppose that I hit the ground running (bah dum chhhh!!!).