Losing track of space

Some of the readers out there know that on occasion I've lost track of my spatial dimensions which has resulted in some silly incidents. On a camping trip in 2001 I once was looking into the trunk of a car and almost broke a tailight because my right hand was holding a spoon (as I leaned over, the spoon nailed the light). Yesterday was a similar type of goofball maneuver, which involves the ole' knee. I was at my club's annual track meet, retrieving a pen from my backpack which I had stashed under the bleachers (Harvard has pull-out bleachers). As I crouched down in a squat to come back out from under the bleachers, my right shoulder bopped into a corner, and my momentum suddenly went the opposite direction. My friends Sloan and Kit watched in horror as I fell backwards, my knee bending more and more. I had passing thoughts of the whole thing re-tearing. Luckily, it seemed to survive. However, I landed on my left hip, which was sore for the rest of the track meet, essentially a butt bruise. It feels better today.

You're not supposed to get injured on your off/rest days !