Ah, a funny running story! This was my Saturday morning:
It was the first sunny and blue-skied, not a cloud in the sky day we had seen in what seemed like forever. So, the boyfriend and I say, "Yes! Let's go for a run!" And proceed to do just that. About halfway through our 5-mile run, running along a sand/dirt path along the side of a bike/pedestrian path, I trip, fall, and skid forward on my hands and knees. Luckily, I did not sprain anything and was not seriously hurt, but when I pick myself up, I see a pretty much unscathed right hand, a crazy bloody left palm, and blood dripping down my shins. My hand hurt like heck. Lovely. Fortunately, we were near a public bathroom, so I go inside to wash myself off and attempt to stop the bleeding. I did the best I could, and then came back out to my boyfriend, who had been waiting for me. There's something on his forehead that wasn't there before, so I ask him what it is. He asks where, and I point to the upper left corner of his forehead. He responds with, "A damned bird pooped on my head!" And I respond, "Wait, really?" He says "Yep!" We both then agree that this was a pretty ridiculous start to our Saturday. We go for a run, I fall and am all bloody and scraped up, and he gets pooped on by a bird. I obtained a few bandaids from a nearby policeman that helped somewhat (until they basically fell of of my palm thanks to sweat), and then we proceeded to finish the run, because what else was there to do? Haha.
We were hanging out with a friend later that day, and he astutely stated that we had both "figuratively, and literally, gotten shat on" earlier in the day.