Knock on wood, it has been a very long time since I've snagged a toe and hit the dirt trail running. The other day, though, I tripped twice. Not the instant-face-plant kind, where you find yourself flat on the trail with no time to consider your life, your options, how to prevent skin on rock or full body moon dust, and a lot of pitying looks from anyone you see on the way back to the trailhead. These were both slow motion situations—hey rock over there, don't want you touching my body, why look here is a bush I can use a trampoline to get me upright. That kind of thing. No bad outcomes, but confusing.
Infinite possibilities
