A Post about being Cocky.
Because I am. I'm 24, gorgeous, intelligent, driven, about to be a doctorate, and in the best shape of my life. Really, how can you resist this?
Here's the story behind the picture: I have been running. A lot. It's how I stay in shape. I think today's 4 miles brings me up to 89. I'm trying to run 1000 in a year. Doing pretty good.
So, therefore, I ran around the neighborhood on the 4th because the rec center was closed. I was thinking - damn my ankles are hurting, but I am also running on uneven ground, grass etc. No problem.
Went to run Thursday at the rec like I do. Running on the treadmill watching some Roddick (omg I <3 men's tennis). My ankle ROLLS. Gives way at 6.0 (kinda fast running about 10 min mile) and then there's NOTHING balancing me on the treadmill anymore.
Can you see where this is going?
Slam is the sound of my knees gracing the treadmill. Slam number 2 is the sound of me flying off the back of it. I get up, start cursing and then hobble over to the first aide station, because I'm bleeding on the floor.
So, if someone was bleeding on the floor would you help them up? Apparently no. The rec was full of other people who just kept on trucking. [insert eye roll here].
How cocky am I? Band aide and went back to finish my 1.5 miles I had left. Screw you ankle.
Here's the story behind the picture: I have been running. A lot. It's how I stay in shape. I think today's 4 miles brings me up to 89. I'm trying to run 1000 in a year. Doing pretty good.
So, therefore, I ran around the neighborhood on the 4th because the rec center was closed. I was thinking - damn my ankles are hurting, but I am also running on uneven ground, grass etc. No problem.
Went to run Thursday at the rec like I do. Running on the treadmill watching some Roddick (omg I <3 men's tennis). My ankle ROLLS. Gives way at 6.0 (kinda fast running about 10 min mile) and then there's NOTHING balancing me on the treadmill anymore.
Can you see where this is going?
Slam is the sound of my knees gracing the treadmill. Slam number 2 is the sound of me flying off the back of it. I get up, start cursing and then hobble over to the first aide station, because I'm bleeding on the floor.
So, if someone was bleeding on the floor would you help them up? Apparently no. The rec was full of other people who just kept on trucking. [insert eye roll here].
How cocky am I? Band aide and went back to finish my 1.5 miles I had left. Screw you ankle.
Labels: awesomeness, running, story
posted by erin at
6:32 PM
1 Comments:
that's hardcore. I think no one helped you because they were all trying to ignore the scene - that's classic slapstick comedy. To see it in real life would be pretty funny, but I have to say I'd actually help you up.
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