G Is for Gross (not for General Audiences)

STOP READING NOW, unless you have a strong stomach.

This morning was my weekly long run with the DC Road Runners, 12.5 miles, starting at Iwo Jima Memorial, running thru scenic downtown D.C., past all the momuments, up past the Capitol Building, all the way to RFK stadium and back. My marathon "group" joins the DCRR weekly Saturday long runs for our long runs. For me, there's no real group. I started the run with the woman I was the Good Egg to last week, but I had already decided I was running my own pace this week. (She ended up dropping out.) We were both last for the first 2 miles, and then she fell behind me. I could see one other woman ahead of me, who was walk/running, so I caught up with her every 10 minutes or so.

Other than that gal, who soon lost me, too, I was on my own. (Well, me and 10 million tourists.)

So, right around mile 3, I noticed a certain urge.

No portapotties anywhere that I could see, and the Smithsonian wouldn't open for several hours.

Suck it up, I told myself. Distract self.

So, I did. I ran up Capitol Hill, to RFK Stadium, the turnaround, guzzling water along the way. At six miles I took 3 Clif Blocks (fatal error? jury still out).

Things were getting serious. I ran past the Supreme Court, the Library of Congress, the Capitol. Not the kind of places to welcome a sweaty runner with an urgent need with open arms. They're funny that way.

I was now consumed with finding a bathroom, a tree, a tent, anything. I had but one goal, and one goal only. And it was not finishing a 12.5 mile run in any number of minutes.

This is where it got fun. I jogged from museum to museum. No luck. I ran off course to the National Mall where the National Folklife Festival was being set up and where I finally spied a portapotty; I ran like hell towards it ... only to find it was locked. I nearly wept. (Tell me, please, what kind of maniac LOCKS a portapotty??? What is there INSIDE that is worth stealing? @!$!~!!!!)

Onward, onward. I still thought I had some time. (Ha.) I knew there were three of the most disgusting portapotties on earth at the base of the Washington Monument. And when they came into view, I hurtled over little old ladies, pushed through groups of people stopping to take video of the stationary Washington Monument (it's not like it's gonna up and do a dance or anything!) and ran over mothers pushing strollers, to get into the only open john.

That's when I discovered that my body had gone on ahead without my knowledge, or consent. It had done what needed doing.

How did I not know this? Well, I had lycra shorts on, so I guess...oh, who the hell knows?? What I do know is at mile 9ish, I was stuck in the smelliest, most disgusting portapotty with...how do I say this delicately? Well, my shorts were full!

Oh the humanity!

I had to strip, throw out undergarments, use water bottle to clean self, clean shorts ...oh. my. dear. god.

And then?? And then I had to put those now befouled, sweaty, wet lycra shorts back on, up over my new WRIGHT SOCKS, leaving, um, traces, requiring more squirting of water from bottle, and endless rubbing with toliet paper...

Oh the humanity!

All this while I was frying to death in this hell-hole ... with people pounding on the door every two seconds, just to add to the excitement!

At some point, the ridiculous-ness of the situation hit me. I mean really. What does one do in this situation? Where are the books on THIS?!?

And, as though that wasn't horrifying enough, after getting reasonably clean (not really: I was a mess), I then had to run four more miles. Sigh.

The good news? I totally forgot all about the pain from my blisters!! And that's the end of the good news roundup!

Have you ever run four miles in wet smelly befouled lycra shorts? No??

Yeah.

I am proud (yes, I am claiming proudness; I have some dignity left) to say that I ran the entire way back to Iwo Jima. Where I was indeed the very last runner to come in. I figure I spent about 15 minutes in the bowels of hell (get it?!) so I'm guessing my time would have been about 2:30ish. Which is pretty damn good, all things considered.

After much disinfecting of body, clothes, car, and anything else I touched, I spent the rest of my Saturday carefully examining my diet, and consulting Dr. Internet, who helped me narrow the cause: I used milk on cereal on Friday and Saturday mornings. I haven't had milk in years. I only drink soy milk, but we were out, so ...

Lesson learned!