Well, bloggy friends, this weekend I became a Runner. Yes, yes, it's true that I've been running for the better part of 15 years...and it's true that I've considered myself a runner for most of that time. However, yesterday I achieved new heights (or lows, as it were) in my Running life. I became part of that subculture that is known as Runners (with a capital R). There are lots of things that are telltale signs of the species: black toenails; the farmer's blow; enjoying (fiction and non) books & movies about running; giving up treasured foods or drinks in order to improve the running game; ability to recall PRs at every distance; achieving the Holy Grail of Running--the BQ.
But it's not any of these characteristics that I achieved. No, it's something far more common, infinitely more useful, and tragically more out of character for me. Ladies and gentlemen, Runners among you, I give you THIS rock-solid evidence of this girl's ascent to the capital R:
Yes, like the dog in the picture above, I peed on a bush while out for a run1.
If you've read this blog for any amount of time, you may recall that my running tales are completely devoid of tales involving crazy bodily function antics. It's not because I don't share; it's because I don't poop myself while running, I don't pee unless there's a bathroom, and if I am throwing up it's because I am a) pregnant b) inhabitied by alien creatures that have overidden my natural body tendencies--quick, call the NSA. (I quite literally use viusalization techniques and matras to avoid throwing up--down, down, everything in my body, all engery goes in ONE direction only, down, down--this is my nausea mantra to avoid the puke...seriously, I hate puking THAT much.)
Well, yesterday I had to pee like mad (which coincidentally, I HAVE written about before) but had a known bathroom pitstop on my route. I jogged on over there, only to find a sign that said, "RESTROOMS CLOSED FOR THE SEASON." What? It's 50 degrees outside! And this is not really a classy facility, worthy of seasonal closure. This was not peep I could hold for 17 miles--I was at mile 2--so I did what any self-respecting Runner does. I looked for watchful eyes, passing cars or other runners on the trail, found a suitable large pinetree, whipped my running tights down, copped a quick squat, and then took off back on the trail at about an 7:00 minute mile in order to skedaddle right out of there.
A Runner is born.
1 - tip: don't google "picture peeing in bushes" from your work computer...unless "www.girlspeeingworld.com" is on your company's list of acceptable websites for work viewing....