March 14, 2011
I had the absolute worst run in the history of the planet Earth yesterday. Instead of trying to recreate the scene, I'll just cut and paste my running log entry from The Daily Mile:
The world would be a better place if this run had never happened.
Let's really break this one down here....
Sometime around 2 o'clock, I decided it was time to venture out for a long run. Since I didn't preplan so well, I didn't have the chance to stash any water along the route. Therefore, I decided to carry my water with me. Not being able to find a handheld water bottle or my camelback bladder, I did the next best thing and opted for a baby bottle. With Winnie the Pooh on the side. And the big old nipple thing that was clearly big enough for cars to see as I got not one, but two honks and cheers from cars filled with teenage boys.
My bottle and me, we felt sluggish today, so I opted not to look at my Garmin until mile 10. It confirmed that yes, I kind of suck.
Somewhere around mile 11, I had the quick and hard urge to take a poo. Let me just tell you that there is a 0% chance of pooping in the woods during the winter in Maine and maintaining one's dignity. Since there's absolutely no leaf coverage, I opted for the 'WHY THE HELL NOT?!' route, dropped trou, and took a poo right next to the lake near a big drainage ditch thing.
I pooped all over the back of my pants.
Then my foot slipped off a little rock pile and into the lake.
At mile 14.5 I got thritsy and finished off my baby bottle.
At mile 15 I thought I was about to die of dehydration. I found the only clean patch of snow I could, and started packing it into my Pooh baby bottle. A nice family was getting out of their minivan and saw the whole thing.
They also saw me stick the bottle between my boobs to try and melt the snow.
It melted, I drank it, and I've been sitting on the toilet for three hours straight.
I really could have used some contact from and SOL in a SBC* today.
*SOL in a SBC = Super Old Lady in a Super Big Car
I've got to say that peoples' comments have been the funniest part of this entry. People are saying things like, "Way to finish it up!" and "Wow, so committed to your running!"
I didn't run around with poop on my pants because I'm devoted to the sport, I ran around with poop on the back of pants because it was the only way home. Since I hadn't brought my cell phone, I had three options:
1) Knock on a stranger's door, ask for a ride, and poo up the interior of their car.
2) Knock on a stranger's door, ask to use their phone, and poo up their couch upholstery while I waited my sympathy ride from Jared.
3) Run home and don't poo up anything that doesn't belong to me.
Even in my world, the third option was the only option. This was desperation, not devotion--very different concepts you guys.
So tell me, do any of you have running horror stories? If you do, can you give me the abridged version in the comments, or a link? Something? Anything?
Top me. Please.