I cannot believe I am sharing this with you. But I guess if you’re reading this, I went through with it. Something happened last night that moved me to a new level of “real runner.” For the record, I don’t distinguish between a runner and a jogger or someone being a “real runner.” If you run, you’re a runner. That being said, I crossed into a new level of runner last night. You’ll understand in a minute. Don’t worry, there are no pictures.
Last night I had a pretty good 8 mile run. The weather was nice and cool (upper 50’s) and my legs felt alright. My pace was steady and everything was going well until about mile 1.5, when I suddenly had to go. Unfortunately, on this stretch of trail there is nowhere to go. You’re right next to a road and then you go by a water treatment facility. But I have a spot at mile 2 where I can safely drop trou without being arrested for indecent exposure. But last night I did not make it, and my running shorts were the casualty.
I was mad. It’s not like I was being stubborn and trying to make it to a brick and mortar bathroom, or even a porta potty. I just wanted to get somewhere that people driving on the road couldn’t see me. This is the first time this as ever happened to me. I’ve had some close calls in the past, but I’ve always been able to at least make a mad dash to a bush or tree. I guess it was bound to happen eventually if I ran long enough.
On a lighter note, once that awful incident was over the rest of my run went well. Around mile 4, something in the brush along the trail startled me (probably a deer). My automatic response when I get startled is to immediately clench both of my hands into fists. However, that doesn’t work out well when I have a handheld 20 oz water bottle in my right hand. And in this particular case my water bottle happened to be open, so I sprayed myself in the face. Messed shorts, sprayed in the face with my own water bottle…. definition of a good run, right?
The sun set with about 2.5 miles to go and I kicked it into high gear because I am scared of the dark and definitely do not want to be out on a trail by myself. High gear translated into a 9:46 last mile. In retrospect I’m not sure why it felt like I was sprinting.
I’m not even sure what questions to ask, because a lot of you are probably pretty uncomfortable at this point due to my over-sharing (sorry Dad). I hope I didn’t gross anyone out, but if I did I’m sorry. Come back tomorrow, I promise things will be back to my usual rambling randomness from my day.
I thought of a question! If you had an accident while running, would you tell your significant other?
I had to, because Barry had dinner on the table when I got home and I had to explain why I had to take a shower first.