So there I was, with my limpy sore leg and my limpy sore dog, all packed up in my limpy old Escort hatchback and headed out to do a couple miles of light running on one of my favorite trails.

Forget the fact that I knew I should wait longer before stressing my gashed knee. I wanted to run.

So I strapped on my waterbelt and hobbled over to the trailhead, only to encounter this cheery news:

Hope your day is going better.