Today I start my running blog, in which I hope to chronicle the daily (weekly?) tribulations of a runner in training. My goals for this blog are to vent, toot my own horn a bit, and possibly inspire others to lace up their sneaks and hit the road (or track, or treadmill, or hill, which in my neighborhood is literally a pile of trash disguised as a park).
So what better way to start my blog than with an intimate and in depth look at the inner working of my bowels. Go ahead and read that again. I really did say bowels!
Let's get a little fun info about the bowels in the form of me recalling something I once heard and then googling it a bit to confirm it's actually true. In biblical scriptures the seat of emotions did not lie in the heart, but instead in the bowels. So you know that whole loveliness of "I love you with my whole heart?" Kind of loses the romance once you say, "I love you with my whole bowels." And do we really want to go down the road of, "That impassioned speech really moved my bowels"?
I don't think so.
I don't know what the point of that was other than to lead as a quasi introduction to my little tidbits about Runner's Trots and how really awful it can be.
For those of you that aren't familiar with RT, picture this feeling. You've just eaten a really big, greasy meal. Possibly with lots of dairy if you are lactose intolerant. Your stomach starts making that gurgling noise, and the next thing you know you're spending some unpleasant time in the washroom.
Now imagine that same feeling hitting you while your halfway through running 5 miles. Which means, if you're like me, you're in your neighborhood, another 2.5 miles from your house. At which point all concerns about time and mileage are out the window. At this point you just gotta get home.
This was my experience today. I set out for a leisurely 5 miler on a lovely day, yet found myself having to cut it short and rush home. Runner's Trots is extremely unpredictable, at least for me. It can happen a few times a year. It can be after I've eaten a big meal or had hardly anything at all (case in point, this morning for breakfast I had a glass of milk and granola bar, and went for my run nearly 2 hours later).
You never know when it's going to hit, which makes it a thousand times worse when it does. Ever wonder why race events often have porta-potties strewn throughout the course? Well now you know.
So there you have it. Hope I didn't frighten you away with all the bathroom humor.
Distance: 7K (4.35 mi)