The 'crappy' bits

The Crappy bits - (or what to do if you get caught short!)

Warning -  the content of this blogpost may offend some readers.

That’s because there are a few crappy bits in it, which may not be up everyone’s alley - so I wont be offended if you need to skip the odd paragraph or two.

But for those who want to hang in there. . .. 

This is a story about bowel movements. Which is to say it’s a story about, poop, poo, number twos, crap, jobbies, tollies . . .or whatever you prefer to call the waste product that comes out our rear end at (hopefully) regular intervals! 

When you first start running you might find that the movement of your bowel suddenly takes on a whole new significance.  Where, when and how - becomes a thing of utmost importance. And getting it right usually means getting it over and done with before you start the run. 

Remember the last time you were on an airplane. And you hit turbulence. And the cabin luggage ended up all over the place.  Well, that’s what happens when you run. Your insides hit turbulence. Things loosen. . . jostle about -  noses run, eyes stream, armpits sweat, thighs rub, heels blister, bladders leak, and bowels weaken.

 I kid you not!

In the bowel department you really want to have as little as possible in there to start with.

Because obviously, being ‘caught short’ during a run is no fun. If the urge comes upon you when you are out running you might be required to locate the nearest bush and proceed to balance precariously on your haunches while keeping one ear to the ground and the other scanning for approaching traffic. You might  even be required to perform the said evacuation under, on, or in a tree with one arm keeping your balance while another tries to keep all clothing away from the proceedings. 

Who knows what you might need to do. 

But one things for certain. . . 

You will do what you can. You will give it your best shot.

And you will try not to poo on your shoe.

You will also make sure you never leave the house again without a suitable wad of tissues tucked somewhere on your person.

Which all just goes to show why getting the bowel evacuation over before the run is the preferred option. Unfortunately, this may not always be possible. And if the kiwifruit binging, the crouching exercises, the jogging on the spot, the loads of roughage and the midnight licorice feasts haven’t worked yet you might be forced to concede defeat.

Sometimes, despite your best efforts,  you might find yourself  at the start line and it’s ‘on your marks, get set, go’. . . and you know you still havent gone. Take heart. There is nothing more you can do. And people do survive these things.

My friend found herself in this situation while running recently in Wanaka. She had had no luck with the pre-race poop and, there she was, jogging happily down the Cardrona Valley, when suddenly, without warning, she got the urge. With no port-a-loo in sight she  had no choice but to jump the fence, assume a crouching position and do what was necessary as quickly as possible. Luckily there was enough ‘bush’ to provide camaflouge and she completed the procedure without too much unnecessary drama. As she explained, her embarrassment was very minor compared to her relief!

Some serious ‘googling’ on my part soon revealed that my friend was in good company. 

The experience of Julie Moss, a marathon runner of some note, makes for a truly squirmish read. Apparently, Julie was well into her 42km run when she became seriously dehydrated. Loss of control resulted and, although she managed to trudge onwards, it soon became apparent that she was in fairly dire trouble. In no time at all her knees had buckled inward and she crumpled to the ground. On hitting the pavement her bowels cut loose, and began emptying of their own accord. Poor Julie. What a mess ensued as the poo reached her running shorts and trickled down her legs. It is reported that she sat on the roadside for more than two mins before gathering herself together and continuing the race.

Another runner,  Paula Radcliffe,  found herself in a similar predicament -   Feeling the urge to go in the middle of a race Paula simply -  “placed her hand on a metal crowd barricade for balance, used the other to curtain her shorts to the side and perched precariously over her shoes. There she proceeded to ‘have a poo’ right there in broad daylight within two feet of a startled spectator. “

The moral of the story is. . . When in doubt let it out.

Or, as the British say -  keep calm and carry on.

And do what ever you can to cope with the crappy bits.

Oh and, always try not to poo on your shoe!