I own the two most embarrassing stories from yesterday. The first is a simple slip-on-ice-and-bust-my-ass, run of the mill, story from a native Texan who really doesn't know how to respond to cold weather.
The second is slightly more humorous.
My plan for this week was to run 13.1 miles, the length of the half-marathon. Since it was cold and icy, I decided to run it at the gym on the treadmill. Since I'm on my lunch break I can't elaborate about every mile of the journey, but I'll let you know the story ends with me completing the 13.1 miles and no, I do not fall at any point. It's worse than that.
By mile ten I was feeling pretty good about myself. I wasn't too tired and I knew I could finish. But I did notice several people kept looking at me. I thought they were probably marveling at my athletic prowess, since that is a common occurrence. But by mile 11 I realized the looks were getting longer and more serious. I realized something must be up, but was too intent on finishing the run to care very much.
Somewhere between mile 11 and 12 one of the young girls who works at the gym walked by, glanced at me, then her mouth flew wide open and she said "Oh, no, you're bleeding!"
I look down and see two spots of blood. Would you like to know where the two spots were located? That's right. The blood was flowing from my nipples.
Tom told me this happened and now I can confirm, it happens. It's time I pull out the band-aids.