Those who have read this blog for a while will maybe remember about a year ago I wrote about a particularly awful incident that happened to me while doing mile repeats at the Goucher College track. Running-wise, I felt great that day. Strong, smooth, crushing my workout. Unfortunately an hour or so before I decided to head to the track, I ate some leftover spicy quesadilla. MISTAKE! The short of it was that I did two full mile repeats and the third one was cut to a 1200 as I was sprinting down the homestretch directly to the track-side port-a-potty. I didn’t make it. It was the first time I had run so hard, I’d crapped myself. Not bad, but enough to make me bag the rest of the workout. I’ve had a number of close calls and near misses before and since. Until last night, they had all been directly related to Mexican food consumption combined with track workouts.
Last night was different. Originally I HAD planned on doing a baby workout, just to get my legs moving faster than the slow slog I’ve been doing 99% of the time. OF COURSE, by yesterday afternoon I was running to the bathroom every half hour or so. UGH. To make it worse, I hadn’t even eaten anything particularly delicious (or spicy) the night before. My GI system just decided to hate me. I amended plans and headed to Duke’s East Campus loop. Only a little over a mile and a half, and with a Whole Foods across the street from the where I was starting, just in case anything went awry.
Things DID go awry. I didn’t notice it on the first loop. But by the mid-point of the second, I was feeling some distress. Stupidly, I went on for another loop instead of heading to the bathroom. Halfway through the third loop I was in emergency mode and I still had about a half mile at minimum to go before I could get the Whole Foods bathroom. I cursed myself for not having the forethought to bring some toilet paper, as at least then I could have ducked behind one of the big bushes dotting the loop. Instead I trundled on as some dude came flying past me. This will be important in a second. With about a quarter mile to go I honestly thought, “Goddammit I’m going to shit myself right here.” I didn’t. I slowed it down and waddled across the street. I was trying to find a balance between moving fast enough so as to get to toilet ASAP while going slow enough to not cause a second catastrophe. As I got to the door, I noticed the runner guy who had gone flying by me minutes earlier entering the bathroom. And as I entered the bathroom I heard him narrowly missing a catastrophe of his own. I chuckled to myself, “THAT’S why he was flying. I empathize.” My empathy was short-lived, as I realized there was only ONE toilet! I briefly considered going to the women’s room. I briefly considered crapping in the urinal. Or the sink. I didn’t. I beared down; not moving made the problem much less dire. Finally I had managed to get in there.
I went back out and jogged another 8ish miles, my stomach somewhat less of an issue but still VERY uncomfortable. It seems I must have just caught some sort of stomach bug. Occupational hazard of working with 300+ children on a daily basis. I had other thoughts I thought I wanted to write about on my morning run the other day, but I forgot them.
Til next time, RUN HAPPY (and with some toilet paper in your pocket) everyone!
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