I am putting a TMI warning on this one…read at your own peril of hearing things you may have never, ever wanted to know.
I am at the end of week 4 with my training for the 2020 Austin marathon, and I offer you two valuable insights to the world of distance running.
At my last group run, I talked with another runner about Runner’s Poop. Yes, I talked about this with someone, a MAN, I barely know. Because, runners.
It’s a real thing. Basically, when you run, things start moving all around. This is why I try to not drink much right before running (consumption of water stops for me about 30 minutes before a run). That part is easy enough. At least, not peeing DURING the run. More on that later.
But the eating…that’s been quite the puzzle to figure out. I try to eat a snack about 30-45 minutes before a run (this is what Runner’s World has told me to do). Sometimes, it seems to work out okay. Other times…well, I get about a mile in and suddenly, oh…no…
I start to mildly panic and just keep putting one front of the other and singing to my worship playlist that I run to. My worship transitions into bartering with God, “I will do anything you want if I don’t have Runner’s Poop on this street right now.” Eventually, several terrifying minutes later, I realize I don’t have to go as urgently and I just might make it. I make it. Barely. But I make it. My pacing usually suffers around this phenomenon, which is very annoying.
I’m not sure if I’ve tamed my GI tract, but at this point in my training I no longer have this happen on a consistent basis, which is a relief but I’m staying on alert. If I let down my guard, all *@##! may break loose. Literally.
Losing my Hoo-Ha
As a person recovering from anorexia, my body has been a source of intensely mixed emotions. About a month ago, when the opportunity to run a marathon presented itself, I believed that God was ready for me to learn just how strong this body could be:
AND…this mostly Mommystrong has post-partum parts. My child is almost 3.5 years old, and yet I peed myself jumping on a friend’s trampoline last spring. Is this permanent??
Enter marathon training. Here’s my general schedule for the week:
- Monday – run 3 miles; I leave work at 4:00, park in my daughter’s daycare lot, run, and then pick her up
- Tuesday – run 4 miles; I run at 7pm after I get home late due to LK’s swim lesson
- Wednesday – strength & core
- Thursday – run 3 miles; same as Monday
- Friday – rest day
- Saturday – long group run at 7am (tomorrow’s is 8 miles, pray hard y’all)
- Sunday – cross training
Last Thursday, I parked at the daycare and went for my run. I felt pretty good…until it came time to stop and cool down. I really needed some water, but I also sensed I did not have enough time to get water and get to the bathroom before I would…nope.
Me, Mommystrong, a 41 year old woman, peed myself in the daycare parking lot. Oh, the horror.
Well, I may as well drink some water now. I headed inside with my head down and bee-lined for the bathroom. Why would I need to go to the bathroom now? You might ask. Given the amount of sweat and pee already on my body, I decided I may as well cool myself off and hide the humiliation by splashing myself with water.
With my head held high, I walked down the hallway to my daughter’s classroom. As usual, a chorus of preschooler voices shouted at me various things: “LOOK AT ME!” “I’M WEARING PURPLE DINOSAUR SHOES!” “WHERE’S MY MOMMY?” “CAN I GO HOME WITH YOU?”
LK and I left the daycare with her proudly holding my hand. She had no idea her mommy was wearing her own tee-tee mixed with sweat and sink water. She’s just proud of me because I’m her mommy.
Last night as I ran, I didn’t have any music (which is the worst thing ever) and it was just me with my thoughts. My thoughts kept coming back to how it felt like something was literally on the verge of just falling out of my hoo-ha with each step I ran.
And there you have it. I remind you of the TMI warning at the beginning of the post, as I leave you with this…