Good afternoon fellow runners
I awoke this morning absolutely knackered. I wanted to go on my 8K run about as much as I wanted to smear yoghurt all over my buttocks and roll in some nettles! However I forced myself to get up and got myself ready. Shorts and top, socks with a hole in (they'd do for this run, then get thrown out) and my Asics. Tallula the cat watched me suspiciously from a chair as I dressed, then followed me downstairs to eat her breakfast which I served for her!
I made it out the door having slugged some cranberry juice and chomped on 4 dried apricots and off I went on my walk to warm up. I started slow and decided to hell with the pace of this planned training run. I would go as slow as I wanted and not bother about the "FAST" part of todays run.
All was going swimmingly until around 5K when I noticed that "stirring" one gets in one's intestines. A very slight "Guurrrrggle.....splloooooosshhh" feeling made me aware that once I'd got home, my first port of call would be the great white telephone! I ignored the "grrrgghhhhllll" rumbles and plodded on.
At 6K I was at a CODE AMBER. The human body was preparing itself for a mass exodus and it didn't give a sh*t (sorry...poor choice of word there) that I was three kilometres from home.
"Oh Christ!" I said. "Better get a move on Dan boy. You don't wanna "Paula Radcliffe Special" happening on the Thames Path!!"
We've all been there. When you gotta go, you just GOTTA GO! I increased my pace. CODE AMBER was slowly moving into the CODE RED zone. I reached Richmond Bridge and had two K to go. Luckily the lights went red just at the point I arrived to cross the road. "PHHGGHHHIISSHHHHGHHH" said my large intestine. I went faster and tonked down the Thames Path heading for home and a glorious finale on the toilet. I imagined the peace and tranquility of sitting on my loo and sighing with relief. Until then though, I was out in public, running like the wind (sorry, again!) with my "bottle and glass" on a CODE RED!
Sirens were sounding in my head! Loud urgent "GET THE F**K OUT OF MY WAY" sirens. I had 1K to go and had the horrible image of my losing control of my bowels on St Margaret's Road in front of people waiting at a bus stop! "Don't think like that Dan!" I told myself. The more I thought about going, the more I wanted to GO!
My phone beeped 8K - but I couldn't stop and walk home. Becky Bowels wasn't having any of that! I kept running - tired now, cos I'd just done a 5:30K fuelled entirely on a desire to pass a motion (or three). I got to the alleyway which leads to my road and had to slow to a fast walk. I reached my house. Key in the door and took the stairs three at a time. I bounded down the corridor. Shut the door as quietly as I could so as not to disturb Mrs Dan (See? Even with my bowels at a CODE RED I'm considerate!). I yanked down my shorts.......
Altogether Now! SING!!! - "Heaven.....I'm in heaven.....And my heart beats so that I can hardly speeeeeak..."
And so endeth my tale of horror. It's the first time ever, out running, that I've had "the urge" so to speak. And what a ghastly experience it was too. Don't wanna have that happen again.....
Thanks for reading folks!