Training
Training Blogs
The Rumpire Strikes Back
July 22, 2010By Rebecca Gardiner
My ass is so tired of being kicked, it’s firing back. In a draining week, the quarrel has, quite literally, ehem, spilled into the streets.
It all began last Saturday at..wait for it…crack of dawn. I had eagerly agreed to take on Dr Steve’s latest bondage session with a new friend at 6:30am, in sweltering 30 degree heat. Steve calls this 16K including 12K at long slow distance pace and 4K vertical uphill tempo his ‘special run’, and special it turned out to be.
After a nondescript start, rumblings of discontent were suddenly evidenced at 5K, by which point, my partner and I were well into the suburban wilderness of Burlington. In the space of around three minutes, I went from, “hmmm I wonder if there’s a bathroom around here?” to OH MY GOD!
Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not adverse to dropping my drawers for a tinkle behind a convenient bush - even the odd mail box, at a push (I prefer the brick ones), but a girl has to have some modesty, right?
Tell that to my butt.
The next 11 toilet-free kilometers put some follow-through into my fartleks. It was not pretty.
Fortunately, my long suffering running partner, who is significantly faster than me, went on ahead - no doubt praying for a tail wind- while the wind at my tail was doing its thing. She then graciously waited for me to catch up - but let’s just say, I am unlikely to get a repeat invitation.
On the other hand, the roses in Burlington are looking VERY healthy these days.
Maybe Darth Vador was hiding in the bushes playing the brown note on his recorder, but it’s more likely it was a case of the Runner’s Trots…albeit that’s a bad name, the condition brought me to an absolute crawl. I’ll spare you any more details, but let’s just say that last week, when I talked about getting my butt kicked, I could never have foreseen just how bruised (at least emotionally) it would become. It’s official, my butt has crossed over to the dark side of the force.
On the bright side, I’ve never lost 4 pounds faster. And I still have never barfed from exercise.
That would be gross.
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Hysterical. Love your candour!
Ah… oh my! The best laugh I’ve had all week! We’ve all suffered from the trotts at some point! Now, if we could just find an expert to tell us how to avoid this from EVER happening again…
Perhaps this is a genetic condition have you had it investigated?
I believe it was you who informed us when you announced this new challenge that your brother “farts athletically”.
Apparently, you took it (number) one better.
Oh dear, having had black bean quesadillas for dinner, it now strikes me that this might’ve been a poor choice with a 14 km run tomorrow morning. Thanks for keeping it real!!
Too funny Rebecca. At least we can all take comfort in knowing we are not alone.
my gals and I were just talking about this on our run this am! I have emailed it to them, thanks for making me laugh about something that we have all suffered through! My butt is no longer alone!