Rocks? Fuck rocks.

I'm not a huge fan of rocks. I'm sure one day I'll master them, and who knows, maybe even learn to love them. But for now, I'm cool with us being arch enemies.

I know I'll never get better unless I try things I can't yet handle, and I know I'm bound to fall a little (okay, a lot) in the process. But rocks? They are just so unfriendly. And hard. There's no good way to fall on a rock (or a pile of rocks) except to avoid hitting your head. Today I didn't get too bloody, but come morning I'm going to have quite a few bruises on my bottom. And my legs. And my side.

Ouch. The good news though? I'm getting better—I cleared one pile of rocks before wiping out on the second.