You may recall in my last post I mentioned a little gig I had Saturday night. I suspected bad behavior might overwhelm me if things turned out to be fun, and I was spot on. We played first, then another local band played and finally, a sweet little ensemble out of Oakland came on and stole the show. These guys not only rocked, but they were hilarious. I laughed my ass off and just couldn't bring myself to leave. I did bring myself to purchase multiple adult beverages in an attempt to throughly enjoy the show happening on and off the stage.
|Felsen. Confident people frighten them.|
So, I forced a packet of oatmeal down my gullet and sipped coffee on my way to the meet up spot. The girls knew my predicament and were very nice about it. There were a few jokes at my expense, but I felt like I deserved it. The workout wasn't a killer, well, on a normal day. I was so happy to have them with me. I'm not sure I could say the same for them.
Almost immediately, during the warm up, I noticed some independent activity that required the attention of a bathroom stop. One friend suggested a stop in the bushes, and I suggested this would not be appropriate for my situation. The workout was meant to be a continuous run (npi) alternating miles at 6:10-6:20 pace with miles at 7:00-7:30 pace. Not super tough, but still a challenge. It is called the "gentle wave". My body took that very literally.
We started the workout and almost immediately I was struck by another urgent desire to find the loo. We stopped at a portable john after the first hard mile and then the second. I think we got through repeats 3 and 4 without a stop, but during number 5, number 2 came a knockin'. That's when I started reciting to myself, "don't poop your pants. don't poop your pants." About 2/3 of the way through the final mile repeat, I saw a bathroom and I said out loud, "I am not going to shit myself during a stupid workout." I am too proud.
You'll be glad to know that the bathroom breaks were effective. I got through 17 miles, hit all my times without an offensive incident. I even ran 4 more miles that evening. I did, however, take a long nap almost immediately after coming home from that first run. My GI tract was a mess all day long too.
Of course, during my short evening run, I stepped funny on something in the dark and came down on my ankle with the force of a giant panda. I was strapped to the dogs, and their forward momentum took me forward onto my elbows, hands and butt. Scrapes, bruises and a sore ankle later, I live to tell the tale. I cross trained on the Elliptigo today which was a fun change of pace. Also, I stood all day at my computer and was quite surprised that the ankle was much less sore by the end of the day. It's swollen, but not at all sore. I may have found a new treatment for a twisted ankle: stay on the foot.
Soon enough, I'll climb on the wagon and swear off alcohol until after CIM. Even with the unpleasantness during the run, I am happy that I had the night of debauchery. You only live once, after all.