I have speculated before about how horrible a bowel attack would be during an outdoor jog.
(It just occurred to me that I talk about poop a lot in my blog...as in: I must seem a bit pre-occupied with the topic. Just to refer to me as the "girl who is obsessed with bowel movements." I'm okay with that.)
It has never happened to me before ,but today I was moved to tears, a cold sweat, and a full blown sprint at a speed I never believed I could achieve.
A few years ago I remember listening to a morning show in which the discussion led to bowel attacks while driving.
This has happened to everyone, I am quite certain of it. It is a horrible feeling to be trapped in traffic and have to go to the bathroom. You begin to outweigh the pros and cons of actually crapping your pants and the messy consequences that this action would ultimately result in.
"You can take an nonreligious person," the talk show host said, "and put them in a car with an impending bout of diarrhea. Suddenly, the person starts crying out, 'Awwwwwww, Jesus! Jesus, pullllllleeeeeeeeeeeasssse help me!'"
Although I am what one would call a "religious person," my desperate repertoire included a few "help me, Gods" and a lot of "awwwwwww, f**k me's!"
These phrases quickly became a pathetic mantra, if you will.
I began the Couch to 5K program about six weeks ago.
I am currently on day one of week six and have gained weight. (That is a gripe for another day.)
Today's workout involved the the five minute warm-up walk, followed by five minutes of jogging, three minutes of walking, eight minutes of jogging, a three minute walk, five minute jog, and finally a five minute cool down walk.
I got pretty far from home by the time the first twinges hit me. My stomach boiled, gurgled. I began to panic.
I cursed myself for venturing so far from my house.
The situation deteriorated quickly. I began to assess the trees around me...and the brush began to look pretty good. But by this time, my house was in distant view and I believed I could make it. It would result in much angst, but I could do it.
I broke into a crazy sprint and cut across a busy road. I bound through my backyard and flung open the door.
My startled kids looked at me with concern. "Mom, are you okay," one asked as I barrelled past them towards the master bathroom.
The door was locked.
I suppose it wasn't so surprising that the door was locked as it often is due to the fact that the two year old has a new fascination with bathrooms and toilet paper. She has been known to splash around in and throw toys into the toilet.
I fumbled with the key, kicked open the door and tore into bathroom.
I vowed to never run outside again ~ we have a gym membership, for goodness sake. I can exercise in air conditioned relative comfort with a wall of televisions in front of me.
I suppose I didn't truly finish my first day of week six of my Couch to 5K program, so I suppose I will have to do a do-over.
On a treadmill.
At the gym.
With a bathroom in view.
Today's experience stuck a chord primal fear in me that will take quite some time to overcome.