I spent a few months a while back exploring a significantly large trail network I am fortunate to live reasonably close to. Almost 50 trails in dense woods comprising close to 4000 acres. Beautiful, lots of deer and vistas in rugged terrain that make for great long runs, but it is a confusing maze in parts. Only the main trails (about 8) have identifying marks at intersections.
One late afternoon I was doing an adventurous route that was about 12 miles through the system. I had planned/timed it so that I'd be exiting the final trail onto a gravel road of about 2 miles that would take me to lighted streets. The problem was that I messed up near the end of the route, and found myself on an unfamiliar side trail with about 20 minutes of useable light to work with. I started running faster, but it just went on and on. Eventually, I was reduced to looking up rather than down to guide my way by the slight variation from black sky to even blacker treeline on either side. I ended up tripping and falling with all my momentum and weight onto a pointed rock that was embedded in the trail, slamming into my ribcage. My face also took a bit of a beating upon hitting the ground, but I didn't realize how badly until much later. I had the breath knocked out of me and was in agony, lying there in inky blackness, surrounded by the quiet shroud of the forest. I didn't know it then, but I had cracked two ribs. It would feel like someone was hitting me with a baseball bat every time I coughed or sneezed, for weeks.
I finally got up and tried to gingerly jog a little, but by then the night was fully upon me and I could not see at all. I was also terrified I would fall again. The additional pain, on top of what I was already experiencing, would have been nauseating. So I started walking, bumping into trees and having no bearing as to whether I was heading north, south, east, or west. It was terrible. I realized there was a possibility I would be spending the night in the forest.
I kept walking and eventually found my way to the gravel road, and from there I made it to the lighted street. I walked into a small fast-food place on the edge of town in order to ask them to call me a cab. I remember the few people in the place, along with the staff, looking at me with concern and horror as I entered. I didn't think I looked that bad, but upon using the restroom to clean up a little I saw myself in the mirror. I was dimly aware I had scratched/cut my face a little when I fell, but I wasn't prepared for what I saw. I had made contact with something sharp in my right eyebrow area, and there was a semi-coagulated substantial trickle of blood that ran the length of my face and down my neck. Because I had touched/scratched my face quite a few times after the incident, I had also smeared it around my nose, cheeks, and neck. There were bloody fingerprint wipes all over my shirt. I looked terrible. I inspected the cut and gingerly opened it to see how deep it was. With dismay, I realized right away that I needed a few stitches.
I cleaned up as best as I could and made my way back out, apologizing to the staff about my appearance; mumbling something about falling while running, then got in the cab and went right to the hospital where I got stitched up and then received and x-ray to confirm the cracked ribcage. It was a run I will never forget.