Like a Ton of Bricks

I hate running with my dog. I mean, I don’t hate it in theory, just in practice. In practice there’s no place decent to run with him here in Cancun. We are forced to run in the streets. And in Cancun that usually means literally in the pot-holed uneven street with cars going by and street dogs following us.

The sidewalks in many places here are narrow, broken and uneven, so they are not pleasant to run on. And when you run on sidewalks it means your dog passes right in front of the gates of the houses along the street, and that means that each time you pass a house with a dog in its yard there’s a big drama of barking and pulling and all that dog-drama shit.

So we run in the street. And that means we have to watch for cars.

Well, today we were running along in the street. And a car came up too fast behind us on our left side. And the dog was on my left. And the dog decided to move to the right to get away from the car. Except I was in his way. And he ran into me and knocked me down in the street.

I landed on the palm of my right hand, followed quickly by my right elbow and right hip. The hip is ok at least. I’m not sure about the elbow or the wrist yet. As you can see I can still type ok, but the pain is intense. My palm hurts a lot, but given that I can move my wrist with out pain I’m thinking it’s just a big bruise. My elbow has a weird lump on one side that’s swelling, the other elbow doesn’t have that lump, so I’m not sure what’s up with that. But the elbow only hurts like roadrash, so I may be ok. We shall see.

Just yesterday I was bitching about how much I hate running in the street with the dog. I much prefer to run in the park (where dogs aren’t allowed), I run farther there and get a much better workout. But this dog needs the exercise, he needs to get out and run several times a day. And if he doesn’t get his run then he is hard to live with, he gets hyper and his behaviour is bad. So I run with him, for him, not for me. And look what I get for it.