Ailments, Injuries, and Prayers

So, I never posted pictures from Wyatt's ski adventure in Winter Park. That's because he got sick and ended up flying home early, so the pictures were non-existant. He did have a great time skiing on his one healthy day there, though. He's feeling much better now, so we're happy about that.

If you know me well, you know I rarely get sick. I do get injured fairly often, though, usually due to my own clumsiness. Wyatt says I am an injury magnet, because there have been more times than I can count where I've been hit by a softball, surf board, soccer ball, or any variation of these. And these hits are usually in the face, which is extra fun.

Well, I've been running a lot over the past year or so, and a lot of it has taken place when it's dark out (due to the joys of it being the non-daylight savings time of the year). In July, I had a complete wipe out while running. I tripped on an uneven portion of the sidewalk, a portion that was on a down ramp, and I completely ate it on the concrete. I was bloodied and bruised on my lips, shoulder, knees, and hands, but proceeded to run home anyway. I figured there was no sense in walking, since that would only prolong the time I was away from bandaids and neosporin. So, I run home looking like I've just been violently mugged, passing neighborhood walkers as I go. That was the funniest part; people just kind of looked at me, registered that I was bloody and wounded, smiled, and kept walking. I wonder what I would have done had I been in their shoes.

Fast forward to yesterday night. I'm about 2 miles from home, passing two ladies on the grass because they are on the sidewalk. I'm feeling pretty good about my run and my pace, minding my own business, when I wipe out on some huge tree roots that I didn't notice until I am face to face with them. I get up, smile at the people I just passed, knowing that I probably freaked them out, and assure them that "I've done this before, don't worry." I feel ok other than one finger on my right hand, which really hurts. Again, I keep running, using the same rationale as used in wipeout sequence #1. I get home, and the finger is beginning to swell and turn blue. By this morning, the finger is almost twice its normal size and almost completely purple on the palm side. My dad, who never tells me to go to the Doctor, says "I think you better get that checked out."

I'm wondering if I need to find a new hobby...

Along with all that, Wyatt and I are running in the Houston half marathon this coming Sunday, me with my swollen and purple finger. Prayers for no injuries and overall health would be greatly appreciated. As you can tell by this post, we definitely need it!