Running with Montezuma

Ooooo! Embarrassing story you've all been waiting for! It's new and improved! Get it while it's hot!

Ok. So, I've been trying to train for a marathon. I say trying because skiing kindof gets in the way (4+ hours of driving 3 days in a row + skiing 8:30-4:00 …. yeah, it gets in the way). Since I've fallen behind a bit, I decided to do what my magic spreadsheet that I must obey at all costs told me to do: 2 miles GP, 2 miles T, 2 miles GP. In English, that means 2 miles Goal Pace, 2 miles Tempo pace, and 2 miles Goal pace. Since I haven't exactly set my GP, I decided for this run for it to be 7:00 minute miles with T at 6:30. Which almost worked great.

For the first 2 miles. And even the third. But at the beginning of the fourth it hit me. Hard. Like, I can't run any more, and am walking slightly goofily. Shit. I got a bad case of runner's craps. Or runner's shits, I'm not sure what the technical term for it is.

So I'm in the middle of east boulder about 200 yards from Arapahoe along the south Boulder creek path (really close to Old Tale road). Then and there I started thinking quickly. Stop? And go in the woods? And walk/run the next 3 miles unclean? Doesn't sound pleasant but if it hits me really hard I've got to do it. What about port-a-potties? There's got to be one somewhere. Quick get me to the nearest can!

300 yards later…I thought I remembered a port-a-potty somewhere around here. I could've sworn it existed. But no. It definitely doesn't. Uh oh. It just hit me again. Umm…slow walk increases into a faster walk. I'm now in a residential area about 2.5+ miles away from home. Uhhh…knock on somebody's door and ask? No. I'm not that desperate. I can make it. I'll just walk slowly.

Whew it passed. But geez it's friggin cold. It's 8:00, and I'm in my sweaty thin, essentially skin tight running gear. I was planning on being hot, and now I'm freezing. Oh, and I've really got to go poo.

Ok, 2 miles away. I'm super close...but I definitely can't run, I've been walking the last mile, because every time I jog it hits me twice as hard. No. I will not crap my pant. Never. No. I got over that when I got out of diapers. Not going back now. Not doing that. I'm 2 miles away….comes out to about 30 minutes if I walk really fast. Which I can't. So? Ok, I'll do it.

I got off of the running path, and walked into a residential area. Walked up to the door of a house with lights on (at this point in time my stomach pain was much greater than my embarrassment at having to do this). Took a few steps closer, and the porch light went on. No. I won't do it. I quickly walk away and get back on the bike path. I feel a little bit better.

1.5 miles to go. No. Don't do it stomach. No. No. Uhhh…you won't take no for an answer will you stomach? Port-a-potties are like the easter bunny and santa claus…they don't exist. Unless your little and don't know better (in which case you go anywhere and everywhere). Come on construction site…where are you? What nobody's building anything here? And why are the houses so nice. Uh oh. It just hit me again. Ok, I'll do it. Fine. This is not embarrassing at all. Stop. I can't walk….no, no, NO…ok I'm good again. Or not. Where's the nearest house? Quick! Holy Lights on Batman! There's a front door 40 ft away! Now that I can make! Umm…as long as they let me in. God, how could they turn me down? I mean I don't look creepy, but I guess I could have shaved sometime in the past two weeks. Umm…but I'm in my running gear, that's a dead giveaway. How could they not?

Bzzzt.

That's the doorbell. Uh oh….I've really got to go. And nobody's coming. Why are all the lights on then? It is 8:30…so I guess it makes sense…come on!

Shadow! PERSON! YOU ARE MY SAVIOR! YES! An open door.

"Hello?"

"Hi, I've got a huge favor to ask of you. I'm really embarrassed to say this, but I'm in the middle of a six mile run and I really have to use the bathroom. Is there any chance I could use your bathroom please?"

"Whaaaat?"

"I really need to use a bathroom. Is there any chance I could use yours? It would mean the world to me."

"Why did you pick our house?"

"Yours was the first one next to the bike path with the lights on. I really need to go, is there any chance you'd let me use your bathroom? Please?"

"Bill! Can you come here?" She opens the door a little more and walks a little bit away.

"Is there any chance I can use your bathroom?"

"Yes, dear, what's up?" Her husband calls.

"Umm…ok, it's over there to the right."

"Should I take my shoes off?"

"Nope, you're ok."

"Sweeeet. Thank you!"

That was pretty much how it went. Those people are literally my saviors. Like what would you do in that situation? Going in the woods is pretty much out of the question, you're in bike path behind people's houses. There are no port-o-potties nearby, and there's no chance in hell I could hold it: having to go + freezing cold weather is not a good combo.

And that's pretty much it. I owe that house a fruit basket or something like that, because they are my heroes. I mean, I don't know what I'd do if they hadn't answered the door. Oh, I do, actually. I would have gone to the next house, and the next house, and the next house…probably until it was running down my leg. I'm not sure whether I'm joking either.

Moral of the story? Don't race Montezuma.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Part II: An Afternoon in Paklenica

Shelf Actualization (A February Trip Recap)

Teaser Trailer