When I plan my long runs, I pick locations where there’s a potty station every two miles to mimic a race course as closely as possible. With my hour bladder, there are other benefits to having restrooms along my path.
Two of my sisters and one of my daughters are runners. I have heard STELLAR running/pooping stories. They have had me cracking up on more than one occasion with tales of some pretty close calls. I thank my lucky stars every time I hear one of “those” stories that I’ve never had to deal with anything so extreme. I guess only “real runners” can talk of such things.
So… my run on Sunday. First off, Saturdays are supposed to be my long run day, but the weather was supposed to be almost ten degrees cooler on Sunday, so I swapped out my Sunday bike for my Saturday run. Secondly, it was supposed to be a six mile run, but as I count down the days/weeks/VERYshortamountoftime before my race I had a bit of a freak-out moment (or ten) and decided to do eight instead. I’ve been a little off track with my training because I’ve had some things that have come up that conflicted with my long runs, so I haven’t done the miles that I feel I need in order to be prepared. So I planned on eight miles.
I parked my car in the lot next to the bathroom. Headed East towards the end of the path (a mile). Making my way back I was just over half mile from my starting point and it hit me. Ruh-roh! I stopped running and began walking to see if the feeling would subside. It did a little bit so I started running again. NOPE. I had two options. A) a butt-clenching run so I’d get to the restroom faster – risky; or B) a butt-clenching walk to the restroom – less risky. I chose option B.
Made it! Whew. Stomach felt good. Headed West for a mile. It was raining and I was drenched, but I wasn’t overheating. I was sweaty (or at least the water dripping down my face was salty so I must be sweating). Turned around. Got back near the bathroom. Body check. Everything was good. Didn’t have to pee. Didn’t have to poop. Didn’t need a drink. Just…good to go. So I continued on my run to the end of the path. Still feeling good. Still proceeding with my plan. Turned around to head back. The plan was going GREAT! Was going to hit the Western part of the out and back path to complete the 8 miles. .8 miles from the bathroom and….
WHAT. THE. HELL!?!?!?!?
There was no option A or B this time. This time it was clear that a butt-clenched walk was the ONLY option.
Walk. Walk. Walk.
Gurgle. Gurgle. Gurgle.
Walk. Panic. Walk.
Scan the tree line. It was still raining. The creek was flowing pretty good. Plenty of cover (not that anyone else was out on the trail).
Walk. Walk. Walk.
I could drop trow in the creek. I’ve done it before.
Eyes on the bathroom. I could see it. Could I make it? It was just RIGHT THERE!!!
Walk. Walk. Walk.
One freaking tenth of a mile to the bathroom. I can do this.
Clench. Walk. Clench. Walk. C-L-E-N-C-H!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ah. Made it.
In the bathroom.
Lock the door.
Unclip my fuel pack.
Take one simple step towards the toilet.
In all the years since my prolapse issues, I have never been so happy that I have to wear a pee pad when I go for a run!!!
Made it to the toilet with minimal damage! Dodged that bullet. Well, maybe not bullet. A bullet would indicate that there was anything solid about it! And there was not.
I stopped my Garmin at the 6 miles that I had completed.
Finished emptying (hopefully) the contents of my bowel.
Drove to the path at the lake to try and get in the final two miles. The lake path is a 2/3 mile loop with a bathroom at the parking lot. So I headed there, did three laps, got the extra two miles in, even though it was just a walk.
So happy to be done with that workout! Headed home. Walked into the bathroom to strip down. What the HELL was on my eyebrow?? I put my face up close to the mirror so I could investigate. A white splat of…. what is that…. salty sweat during the rain?? NOPE. Bird shit! On my eye-brow and running down the side of my face. It was completely dry by this point because the rain stopped halfway through my 2 mile walk. So I’m pretty certain that not only was I battling with my own shit, but that I was licking bird shit off my face during my rainy run.
Yeh. I did that.
I guess I’m a “real” runner now.