It’s Probably Because I Didn’t Fall While Ice Skating

More often than not, if I want to go for a run, it requires strapping 1 or more children into a jogging stroller. In turn, this requires drinks, snacks, distractions, and pushing an extra 40 to 85 lbs up hills (and around corners and over bumps). I try to chalk it up to strength training (both physically and mentally).

But you know what stinks? Having the opportunity to get in a solo run during the week while the hub watches the baby, only to catch my toe in a rut halfway through, without the aforementioned stroller for support, and all but face plant into the sidewalk. So graceful. And probably karmic.

My palms and my knee are staging a revolt against me.

My family has given me little sympathy, so I’m here, internet whining. Don’t you feel sorry for me?