A few months ago I had a friend ask if I wanted to sign up to run a 10k in April. Since I'm supposed to be signing up for the New York Marathon in a few weeks, I figured that a 10k would be good for me so that I'd actually get out of the house in the cold and start running again. I have been running off and on with a friend in the morning so although I wasn't super prepared for the race, you know how this goes: if I am untrained for a race, I do well. Thanks again, body.
Friday night was a late one and it wasn't even for some great gossipy reason, so we won't even discuss that. All you need to know is that I was up really late. As in, I got 3 hours of sleep, maybe. My alarm went off all too soon and I quickly found myself throwing on running clothes and running out the door to meet up with friends. I was feeling good the first part of the race and pacing myself well. As we were pushing up the second large hill at the top of the park, I knew that something was wrong. Really wrong. You runners out there know what I am talking about. And as is always convenient in a large race, there was a photographer. Exhibit A:
I walked with this look on my face a ways until I found a porta-potty and waited in line for about 5 minutes and the lady before me came out and said - just so you know, I used the last of the toilet paper. Disaster. I almost cried. I moved on in pursuit of another toilet. About a half a mile later, I came to a water station and miracle of miracles, my visiting teacher was there getting some water. I told her my dilemma and she ran ahead, talked to a hot dog stand vendor and came back with some napkins. She looked at me in an all seriousness said - "There is a dumpster over there. Do you want to go behind it and have me guard you so you can do your business?" Please pause for a moment and think about what just happened. My friend just volunteered to stand guard while I went to the bathroom in the woods in Central Park. I didn't do it. I have standards, people. We asked a volunteer where the next toilet was and she reminded me that the boathouse was just down at the bottom of the hill.
Fast-forward about 15 minutes and I was running the last mile of the race and this was the look on my face as I was about to cross the finish line.
You are welcome.
