Everyone Poops ... (At inopportune times?)

I was 6 months old when Tarō Gomi published Everyone Poops. There is a high probability that on that day, I pooped my pants. Today as I write about the classic book some 40 years later, history nearly repeated itself.

Don’t judge me. If you’re a runner you know the feeling. It is as predictable as the sun rise that if you go for a run long enough, you will inevitably need to poop at the worst of times.

I have had a bowel cleansing movement before heading out the door, only to be hit by the “Seriously ?? Again?? Poop”, thirteen minutes in and being forced to make tough and unwanted decisions. I have had the mid run “Seriously ?? Why Now ?? Poop” leaving me to scramble off the path and into shady places looking for a toilet. Inevitably finding the worst toilet in Scotland, despite running in Canada. Then, there is the always exhilarating “ Seriously ?? I can make it. Poop” that introduces itself late enough into your session that you have no choice but to roll the dice. It was this nerve racking, nail biting, potentially short streaking gem that got me yesterday.

I like to run with as little baggage as possible. I’m tapering and so the run was short enough not to require water or gels. I’m fortunate enough to have air pods and an apple watch so tunes and podcasts are wearable. So the idea of a “naked” run with nothing but shorts, shirt and shoes seemed perfect. Perfect. A glorious, liberating ,soul cleansing, easy paced run ensued. As the distance rolled to 8 km however, I descended into the dark halls of fecal induced hell.

The urge and I got acquainted at about the 40 minute mark, by 41 there was sweat on my brow. By 43 minutes my smile was gone and my eyes were shifting nervously. At about 9km, I thought of cutting the run short but I’m 10 days until race day. I have been dialed in and I can’t cut it short, I’ll regret it all day, even if its a taper run. I am an intelligent man however and I’ll put myself in a winning situation, so I run closer to home, knowing I can finish the last of the mileage and head in for the victory splash.

I stopped my watch and arrived at the entrance panel at 7 one hundredths of a second after my scheduled finish and immediately buzzed. No Answer.

You need to understand that at this point, it’s uncomfortable bordering on pain. I have a mild fear that when I take my next steps I will live forever in infamy like this guy. Nobody needs to see that, so I dial again. No Answer.

At this point, only the term ‘turtle head’ feels appropriate so Michaelangelo and I start to panic. Text… No reply. Call Again…No Answer. Walkie Talkie feature on the watch… Nope. I start to scan the yard and am seriously wondering if can squat behind a tulip when my kid texts me “Call me.”

Pooping at inopportune times has been a serious struggle over this training period. I’m also sensitive to the issue because back in 2014, I ran the NYC Marathon looking to break the 4hr mark. Somewhere in the heart of Queens, I had to poop and politely waited my turn for a port-a-potty. Official finish time ? 4:00:35… . Heartbreaking.

So 2019 TCS NY Marathon, I’m coming for you. Sub 4 hour is all but assured, if I can only control my bowels.

But hey, everyone poops.