Not too long after my disastrous 5k, I decided try an alternative form of exercise (since I was more than a little done with running after my traumatic experience) and to head out after the kids were sleeping and hike the Y (a mountain trail near our apartment that takes you to the giant 'Y' for BYU). The trail is basically a non-stop incline that is just dirt and gravel and I nearly always slip on my way back down. Typically I just fall on my bum, feel embarrassed, jump right up and that's it. This time, I was literally within 100 feet or so of the trail head, thinking I was miraculously home-and-fall-free for once and not only did I fall, but my right leg was already behind me when my left foot slipped out from under me, causing me to slide a couple feet with my right leg folded up under me right up against the gravel.
I quickly looked around and luckily there was no one with in sight, because I can only imagine the reaction someone would have to seeing a pregnant woman fall while hiking. I am grateful for the concern and help, but they almost always an over-react. :) I jumped right up and headed to my car as quickly as possible and decided not to assess any damage until I got home (around a 5 minute drive). On the way home it sure started stinging and I started to get a little worried at how bad it really was!
I walked in the door and Kyle asked me how it was and immediately his gaze dropped to my leg, and I finally decide to take a look. There were holes in my spandex capris, rocks embedded in my skin and blood dripping down my leg in a few spots. I'm not going lie, it was pretty gnarly looking.
Here are a couple of pictures from a day or two later, looking at about the peak of awfulness with the added healing scabs and added bruises that took their time showing up:
Anytime I was wearing shorts, I'm sure everyone was wondering what on earth happened to my leg, and the few who were brave enough to ask were usually pretty disappointed with how lame my story really was!
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