Running isn’t very glamorous. Distance runners will tell you all about their ugly toenails (or lack thereof) or the time they knew someone who shat their pants.
If you know someone who runs, especially long races, you’ve probably heard the horror stories about runners who sh*t their pants. We’ve seen the pictures. Heard the stories. And laughed because how on earth could an adult sh*t their pants running!?
Well I found out. An adult can sh*t their pants very easily.
Before my morning run, I start the day the same, everyday. I wake up, contemplate staying in bed, make my way to the main bathroom and change into the clothes I set out the night before. I use the restroom, drink 16-20 ounces of water, set my music playlist and get my strava and fitness watch ready to monitor my run. It’s a simple routine I follow daily. And I followed it today.
However, this was no ordinary day. 2 miles into my run my stomach started… feeling… queasy. “No biggie” I told myself and kept running. 2.5 miles in I thought, “I probably won’t hit 4 miles today. I need to head home.” And then I got to 2.8 miles and thought “nah, just finish the last mile and .2. It’ll be fine. What’s the worse that can happen.” If I could go back in time, I would slap myself.
At 3.1 miles I knew. I knew I made a big mistake. I turned around and headed for home. But y’all. I couldn’t make it. I knew I couldn’t make it. I started to panic as a car drove past me oblivious to my inner turmoil. I gave a smile and wave. “Stop the car! I need to use your restroom!” My mind screamed. It was still very dark outside, the shadows of the night danced around me and I knew i had two choices: sh*t myself or sh*t on the side of the road. The idea of walking into my house with the evidence of what happened on my clothes haunted me. “I’ll just throw away my pants as soon as I get home,” I thought. But I knew that wasn’t the answer. I could either quite literally sh*t my pants as I ran home or pop a squat like a wild animal on the side of the road. I knew I had no other choice.
And so, I did what had to be done.
Thank goodness I run before the sun rises. Thank goodness for overcast nights. Thank goodness it’s fall and there are plenty of leaves on the ground. Thank goodness I live in a rural area and traffic isn’t a problem… and wild animals really do pop a squat wherever they damn please. Thank goodness I was only .4 mile away from home and the safety of my bathroom to finish. And thank goodness for my husband who made me laugh about it as I told him about the incident.
Yesterday I saw 3 shooting stars and 3 deer during my run. Today I shat on the side of the road like a deer. Life is funny that way.
I took this picture after my run sh*t fail and after I did my HIIT workout with my husband. I felt very humbled after my workouts today. 6 months pregnant, still attempting to go strong and sometimes failing hilariously. Not every set or rep will be pretty. Not every mile will run smooth. And some days it’s just plain harder to get out of the bed than others. But continue pressing forward even if that means popping a squat on the side of the road. And always remember, it’s okay to fail and it’s okay to laugh at ourselves.