SethMathers.com

In my not too distant past, I considered myself a distance runner. Not a good one but I was one. I was a back of the pack waddler. I was never really fast but I loved the high I would get while going out on a long run. I would just plug myself into my iPod and listen to music or podcasts as I plodded around on an 18-mile run. I would check out and let my mind wander.

It was amazing.

I know the thought of running 18 miles would not be most people’s idea of stress relief, meditation, enjoyment, or self-medication. It was for me. Even my bad runs were still better than not getting out of the house and pushing myself to get one foot in front of other. It was a big part of my life. Having gotten out of the habit of running is something I regret over the last 6 years.

It is hard to start over and over and over.

Harder than even starting in the first place.

Even though repeatedly starting over is hard there is some comfort in it. I ran pretty regularly for close to 5 years. Multiple marathons, half marathons, 10Ks, and 5Ks. I was always planning my next race. If there is one thing that will help you run it’s knowing you paid money for a race entry. Over the five years I ran I learned a little about what my body could do and how much I could push myself. I learned about the activity of running, there is always something to learn about an activity that looks so simple. The learning curve of starting over is quite a bit lower when you have experience from years and miles of previous runs to lean back on.

Never try something new on race day.

Run against traffic when you’re running in the street.

Have multiple pairs of shoes and rotate them every run.

Wear bright, reflective clothing at night and during the day.

Don’t shave your face before you go running. Actually, don’t shave your face. Ever. Beards make you run faster and makes you look more manly while running.

Treadmills suck but not as much as slipping on ice and cutting open your shin.

Start slow and warm up.

At some point in your running life, you will poop yourself.

I always make an effort to make sure I went Number 2 before I went running. I know this is some TMI but it’s still the truth, everyone poops. Running helps your body, maybe just mine, be more regular. So knowing that I always plan accordingly.

However, sometimes my plans don’t always match up with what my body would like to do.

On a run a few years ago I got myself ready. Went to the bathroom. Got dressed in my running attire. Lubed up my thighs with Body Glide to protect myself from chafing and headed out on my normal three-mile loop around our old neighborhood.

I was about half a mile from home when I started to feel some rumbles and grumbles in my stomach. Not I’m hungry for cheese fries rumbles and grumbles but I have to go to the bathroom rumbles and grumbles.

I ignored the warnings signs. I figured since I just went to the bathroom I could just push through.

Getting closer to mile 1 I had to start walking on and off because rumbles and grumbles were being replaced by waves of urgency. I had to concentrate on not succumbing to the urges. I had to go to the bathroom. Now.

At 1.5 miles in my loop going forward or backward was the same distance if I did the whole thing. Going forward I had the ability to cut a little over half a mile off. I had to keep moving forward. I wasn’t running anymore. I was walking. Walking as much are you can when you are clinching trying to keep whatever is wanting to come out inside until you can make it home.

Mile 2 is what a friend and I would call. Two and a Poo. There were times that we would run together and quite frequently one of us would need to use the bathroom and mile 2 and we would be by the rec center to provide relief.

Today was not that day.

A few steps past mile 2 urgency, clinching, and concentration was replaced with convulsing and the immediate uncontrolled evacuation of my bowels. I had pooped myself. I was mortified. Adults don’t poop themselves. I defiantly don’t poop myself. As I sit on the curb crying, covered in what would be best described as thin chocolate soup I came the realization I still had to get home.

I also remembered that Tavia’s parents were in town and were at my house.

I can’t walk through the front door covered in poop from my waist down while my in-laws are home.

When I concluded my babbling, poop covered walk of shame home I got Tavia’s attention through the sliding glass door. As you could imagine she was a little confused as to why I was using the sliding glass door on the side of the house and no the front door. Until I told her…

I pooped myself.

Let’s be honest she probably could see and smell what had happened.

I was a mess.

Being the amazing person she is she went inside, got a towel, brought it back outside and then continued to help clean me up by spraying me off with the hose.

It took me a long time until I was able to share this experience with other people. This is the first time I have ever put it into writing. I now find one of my most embarrassing moments to be one of my funniest. I hope you can laugh along with me. It has taken years for me to get to this point.

Just remember you can plan and prepare all you want. What happens will happen.

It could always be worse. You could be walking home crying with poop running down your leg.