Sunday, July 21, 2013

I was chased by a poop

You know if you Google "runner poop", there are 1.4 million hits.  Go ahead, try, my bloop will be waiting right here while you open up a new window, Google it, and then return.

If you're a lucky bastard, you deal with this issue rarely and think little of plotting your runs in a place where there are A) appropriate places to poop like public restrooms, port-a-potties, or B) lots and lots of trees to hid amongst.  I'm usually one of those lucky bastards.  Save for one of my first long runs when I was teenager and marathon #3, I don't give the tummy troubles much thought. 

So when I went canvassing through the woods last night after work, I was caught off guard by the impending feeling that I was going to have an emergency situation on my hands.  I was deep into mile 2 when the trouble started, conveniently smack dab in the middle of a port-a-potty and a public restroom.  I could circle back to mile 2 or keep going until I hit mile 3.5 and be safe.

I felt like a cotton-shirt-wearing, going-out-too-fast, what's-a-Garmin rookie.

I had to have known somewhere in the back of my head that chugging 16 ounces of water on my drive from work to the Greenway was not brilliant. Lost in that same memory lobe were the 2 beers and excessive barbecue dinner from the night before and the massive amount fruit consumed at lunch 6 hours prior. 

I felt like a can of Coke that just took a trip on a Tilt-a-Whirl.

I immediately took note of my options.  I was stuck on a boardwalked area surrounded by water when the feeling first struck--eek!  In 3/10ths of a mile, I'd be close enough to a creek bank entrance that I could tuck away into safely.  In 7/10th of a mile, I'd be at the public restroom. 

No better time to throw down some speed into a run when you are running with a purpose.  I wasn't running quite as fast as I could have been if a bear or an axe murderer had been chasing me (a 10 on the sprint-like-hell scale), but I was definitely chomping down the trail faster than if there was another runner ahead of me (a mere 8 on the competitive-who-me? scale).

I wavered for 7/10ths of a mile, nearly peeling off with every footstep.  Fortunately I saw exactly 4 people out during my 8-miler so I could have ducked into the woods without embarrassing myself or any passersby.   Once I got close enough where I could actually see the restroom, I exited panic mode.  

I wasn't going to poop myself!!

I could get back to my run and enjoy the rest of my 4.5 miles as the trail darkened and the fireflies came out in abundance.  Had it not been for the poop attack, it could have been quite the majestic run.

Look, if you are still reading, you are either a runner, a sadist, or have a fantastic love of pooping stories.


When I wasn't running from poop this week, I was doing a couple of 4 mile recovery runs after my 14 miler on Monday.  I took the opportunity of the slow pace to throw in a little speedwork right in the middle.

Wednesday, I threw in a 3:20 800 just to get over the boredom of the slow recovery pace.

Thursday, I rode the fence for 2 miles about doing a mile time trial, and finally decided to throw it down.  6:35 is not too shabby all things considered.  I think with some real speed training and proper racing atmosphere, I could get closer to 6:00.  I had some gas left in the tank when I was done so that's always a good sign. 

Lastly, I guess I have to get serious about this marathon training business again.  I think I will be doing a Smart Coach program again starting in 2 weeks, with the speedwork modified a bit.  SC has only mile repeats and tempos, but I think I'd like to replace a few of those with 400s and 800s.  I'm not really sure how realistic my shot at a BQ is, but you never know until you try right??

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