It’s a pretty well guarded secret between runners, that something can happen while you are running.
You will have no control, no say, and no way to stop it, but to everyone out there who wants to train for a marathon should know this. There be a time that you might just shit yourself.
It’s the best kept secret since Coca Cola’s secret formula. Any runner who has experienced the pain and trauma of this will know what I am talking about. In the very very early days of my training all the way back in February I experienced that little cramp at the 5k mark, again at the 7k…persistent pain at the 10k and before I know it I’ve had to stop. I stand there, trying to breath, “concentrate,” I say to myself. Hold it in. I clutch my stomach, those powerful gluteus I literally worked my fat arse off for are no use to squeeze together what’s inside because it’s the consistency of a rather rank, rancid smoothie and all that matters to me right now is that I get to the nearest pub, club, restaurant, or even a bush is a busy public park if you have to. (I’ve seen this happen)
It lingers, and any sudden jolt will cause an accident – an accident I most certainly do not want to have. “Please don’t beep at me,” I think. “Even that will open up the floodgates.” So I keep pace, keep going, trying not to break that rapidly weakening seal. It was “extreme turtle heading” if you could even call it that. Truth be told it was more like “extreme eel heading” and I do realise that is super gross but I feel I owe it to you all to tell you the horror of this best kept secret.
Course as with everything, there will always be pet hates and I certainly have more than my share with running but this seems to be amplified so much when you’re running and trying to maintain your dignity at the same time. Imagine how much you’re pet hates get amplified while you’re trying not to have the accident that will end any credibility you have and possibly end up in picture format on social media.
“Oh, a pack of steady walkers dressed up to the nines in their running gear – but still only walking, having the chats, and taking up precious footpath real estate,” and suddenly I’m saying hello to traffic and getting too close to comfort as I get pushed out on to the road making my treacherous journey to a toilet anywhere so much more uncomfortable.
All of a sudden the way home turns into an obstacle course, the huns in packs taking up footpath, angry drivers, people beeping at you, avoiding dog poo, avoiding everything and everyone to be honest but most of all a big big shout out to that insidious women with her one million dogs on leads which extend to next Tuesday ALL blocking my safe path home and that is not even a remote exaggeration.
It occurred to me what would happen if I didn’t make the toilet…I guess I just have to go. I eyed up a nearby bush and yes, yes I seriously considered relieving myself in it and use doggy leaves for their sole intended purpose of wiping my own arse. But I did not and carried on regardless. Eventually I made it home, probably set a sprinting record for going up stairs and if that was an olympic sport I could possibly compete but for now the marathon is my only option.
I didn’t let my brief and single encounter with a runners best kept secret get me down tho. Since then I have been clocking around 60k a week and getting higher in the lead up to the race on June 2nd. When I started training in February I was 14 stone, I have lost a steady half a stone per month and am at 12 and a half stone now. The goal really wasn’t to loose weight to be honest, rather just to be able to run farther and faster than I ever could.
So, if you want to loose weight all you have to do is run 60 kilometers a week and you can also eat whatever you want too and chances are you’re going to be eating a far lot more than what you were eating previous and you don’t even have to feel bad for it it’s fab!
To be honest there wasn’t much point to this post. I just wanted to tell you all about how one time, I almost poo’d myself in public.