So were you out at the American River Parkway last evening? I was, and frequently am for runs on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday. It's too bad if you weren't there. You missed the opportunity to see me, tangled in my Camelbak backpack (kinda like this one), the wires to my MP3 headphones, and my visor. All of this entanglement, while still running.
When I realized that my hat was roasting my melon (I am a total head sweater...a hot head if you will), I decided that I would take it off and use the velcro closure to the hook on the back of my backpack. I did the prudent thing and waited for my walk break. However, the wires got stuck in the straps to the backpack, and I was unable to get them unstuck by the time the beeping sounded signaling time to run. I'm nothing if not a living Pavlovian response, so I started running while still attempting the untangling. Picture yourself unwinding messy Christmas lights. Wearing gloves. With several glasses of strong eggnog in you. Now you have an idea.
OK, maybe this is a you had to be there story. It would definitely be better if I tripped and fell. In front of a speeding bike. While being attacked by a crazed squirrel. I'll work on that for next time.
Today I did up the ante. I was on a different stretch of the Parkway, doing 38 minutes. About 1/2 a mile out, I was really feeling how much I needed to use the potty. I knew there was one in the parking lot, so when I got to the lot, I kept running down the sidewalk toward it. I have to confess, it was a close one. I couldn't peel off those sweaty shorts fast enough.
In fact, I was so desperate that I didn't take my backpack or headphones off, and just plopped right down and did what Mother Nature demanded. When I reached over to grab some TP, Guns N' Roses blaring in my ear, I managed to dislodge the bite valve (that little rubbery piece on the tube that you bite lightly on to release water) from the tube it's attached to. Water immediately started flowing from it, all over my left thigh, which funneled it right into the crotch of my shorts. I tried to stem the tide by quickly putting it back on, but the combination of water pressure and tightness of the connection made that impossible.
I finally figured out that all I had to do was raise it higher than the backpack and hold it vertical and the water would stop. I mean, sweet jebus, duh.
Of course, this was not before I had soaked the floor and my shorts. But I still walked down the trail a bit to a bench that I had seen so that I could stretch. I figured it wasn't a big deal if it looked like I peed my pants.
Marathoners do it all the time.
Wait, what??? Marathoners soil themselves all the time? Or they just look like they do? Cuz if it's the former, I'm using that as Reason #1 that I'm never running a marathon.
Posted by: Daily Tragedies | April 23, 2008 at 08:51 AM
I guess I should clarify, for everyone, that it is ELITE runners, the ones who qualify for Boston or the Olympics, that are rumored to just, um, let it fly. Apparently they care way more about their time than whether or not they smell of urine.
I have lofty aspirations, folks.
Posted by: Horrible Warning | April 23, 2008 at 09:47 PM