You don’t come here to listen to me talk about running. Or triathlon training. Here is not the place for me to do some deep thinking and journaling about how I am going to get enough swim workouts done and also get a new tattoo this winter. It just isn’t.
Writing. Write what you know. A million people smarter than me have told me that before. Blogging? It’s not much different. I suppose the only difference is that because you get live, human feedback you get to know your audience. And I don’t think you guys want to listen to me talk about running and endurance training and the relative merits of Shot Bloks vs G1, Gatorade’s energy chews.
Guys. Today I need to talk about running. And there won’t be a picture.
I ran twelve miles today. Twelve. I have never run that far in my whole entire life. I have also never shit on the side of the road. And I did that, too. Oh. Did you miss that? Was I not clear? I pooped. Outside. In the middle of running. I ran about six and a half miles and realized I was not going to make it five and a half more. I wasn’t even going to make it the half mile to the coffee shop in town. I scanned the immediate area and I POOPED OUTSIDE. Two yards from the sidewalk. It was an emergency.
And then I kept running. And before you get all up on your “I have never, ever shit near a sidewalk” high horse let me tell you that I had baby wipes. Two of them. In a ziplock bag. Because (and here is where I consider if this is crossing a line to tell what my regular poop schedule looks like and realize there is no line, the line has been obliterated) I have not pooped in two days and I am an every other day pooper and I knew it could ugly and I thought being prepared would prevent it from happening. Wrong.
So, after doing my business and with two used baby wipes in a ziplock bag I ran off towards the closest trash can. Because while I will (apparently) poop in what is technically a person’s yard I will not litter.
I ran and ran. I changed musical playlists. I had this twelve mile run in the bag! Not unlike a dirty baby wipe. And I ate a few more energy chews and I ran some more and then…. then my stomach started to clench and I started to feel nauseous and I realized I had crossed in to new territory. I was now a person that shit on the side of the road. There was no reason to contemplate trying to run three, almost four, more miles with my ass cheeks clenched. AND I DID IT AGAIN. I made it in to the woods. Should that make me feel better?
And I kept running again.
I am not sure what the takeaway is here. I am a person that is just about ready to run a half-marathon. That’s exciting. I am also a person that pooped. On the run. I think that makes me a runner? It might even make me a long distance runner? Because this is a thing – other people have done this. Really. I’m not trying to go all Billy Madison on you and tell you that “it’s cool.” But I am not alone. And that’s comforting.
So. Yeah. I’ve been quiet. Because all I think about lately is training and which race should I sign up for and what am I going to do now that I own the last pair of hot pink New Balance 870v2 in a ladies size 10.5???
So, I told you a poop story so you wouldn’t leave me. But I really can’t figure out how to get the carbohydrates in without making the poop come out. Runners, can you help me? Will my body eventually be able to tolerate a long run without revolting against me? This morning I told MQD that maybe I need to try a different kind of “evacuation blocks.” He looked at me sideways. “I mean energy blocks, but yeah…” I can’t seem to not feel totally thrashed after about an hour and a half without a little something.
Trial and error is the answer, I suppose. And route my runs closer to a bathroom, huh? We live and learn in this life. And this morning I ran twelve miles, pooped outside twice, lost my car key and locked myself out of my house. That’s a whole lot of living.
I can’t do it. A post without a picture seems wrong. Here I am. In the bathroom at the gym. Why? Because Karen at Uncomfortably Honest and Honestly Uncomfortable takes adorable post-run pics in the bathroom at her gym and I wanted to test her theory about lighting. She also tells a mean poop story in case that’s your thing.
Happy Sunday, guys!