about the most embarassing thing I've done is fall over on a Mercedes SL500. Pulled up at the stop light. Unclipped my right foot and fell the other direction. Driver was not amused. My wallet was not amused at the repair job.

I've actually had to pay to fix 2 cars. Took the mirror off a Honda with my elbow after I hit something on the shoulder that tossed me out in the road

We've all done it. There was a period of time last year when, during every Saturday long run, it would almost happen.

Well, until one Saturday when it actually did happen. I scrambled to a bathroom of a local fitness center and tried cleaning up. Needless to say, it was the most uncomfortable, muggy run back.

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@floathammerholdon | @partners_in_tri

I've done it.

It's a badge of honor

Every time it is raining moderately hard and I'm on a run I pee myself just for the satisfaction.

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My Blog - http://leegoocrap.blogspot.com

While I have never actually shit my pants during a run, I have had to do the famous squat behind a bush.

Was out on a 17 mile run. At mile 8 I started noticing things were unhappy down there. At 10 I was starting to suffer a bit. I knew there was a porto-potty in the park up ahead at mile 13... can I hang on until there? At mile 12 my guts gave a massive lurch and essentially said NO FUCKING WAY YOU WILL NOT MAKE IT! I pulled off the trail, ducked behind a bush, dropped shorts, squatted, and let loose. As I was hanging out there with my bare ass and giant pile of unformed poo, I considered coming back with only one sock. However, I happened to be wearing my favorite run socks that day and didn't want to give them up. So I made the bad mistake of just pulling up the shorts with the intention of running to the known porto-potty (at this point 0.75mi away) to finish the job.

So I kinda waddle-jogged to the porto-potty and finished what I started... but in the meantime I managed to really chafe myself badly back there. Lets just say everything related to stuff going on back there was sore and chafed for a few days.

Lesson learned: don't do long runs wearing your favorite socks. You never know when you might need to give them up.

This is my only "didn't make it" story. I have had plenty of "almost didn't make it" but those aren't as much fun.

I have never done it, even during a massive fart, and if I did do it, I would never admit it, and if I did do it and had to clean it up, I would definitely be very discreet about it and I would almost certainly not mention it when I started running again, and last but not least I would certainly be tempted not to "let 'er rip" again during the remaining run. Of course if you are wearing spandex (don't we all) you can leave a wad of tissue in your pants, just in case (you need to say blow your nose as well).

I call that a normal run, or at least I would if I didn't plan my runs to pass by portaloos, and carry toilet paper with me for every run!

Haven't grappled my pants but have made a few stops. It makes it tough that I live in Chicago so no real place to hide. Two weeks ago ate a bunch of corn night before long run. Thought I got it all out. 20 minutes to go started to feel really bad. Tried to stop at dunkin donuts but only for paying customers. Same at gas station, but got paper towels. A few minutes later I HAD to go. Found an area that I was kind of hidden. Dropped shorts and went. Nasty. Very nasty. Finished the job home, showered and ate breakfast and tried to hide embarassment.

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Twitter - Instagram

About 10 years ago I was training for a marathon and I had to go, really really bad, it was about 6am and I saw a bush that I thought was down a little hill and out of site from the road, I was squatted down doing my business when a group of 4-5 women came running by, clearly seeing what was going on. All I could do was laugh and wave.

Sh!t happens, to all of us.

I figure you aren't "really" a runner yet until you can tell a story something like this one :)

I haven't been able to bring myself to wear a headband in races since I used one as makeshift paper behind a bush in a 20-miler many years ago! And, no, I didn't put it back on my head before anyone asks!

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http://www.howesgreg.com

George Brett would be proud.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pU9xz2FpQc0

Yep, been there done that...although I was only 2 years old at the time. But if you gotta go, you gotta go.

The obvious take away here is to never....ever....ever....run without pooping first. As hard as it may be. After thousands of runs this is my conclusion and my only guarantee that I won't get the poops during the run.

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24 Hour World TT Champs-American record holder
Fat Bike Worlds - Race Director
Insta: chris.s.apex

I have shit myself once, less than a mile from home, winter time so I was wearing tights too.......yeah. I went into the garage and yelled for mrsmck414 to bring me a trash bag. Oh she had a good laugh that day. Since then, any threat of a uncontrolled shit coming and I hit bush, behind a parked car, anywhere slightly out of sight if at all possible.

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The secret of a long life is you try not to shorten it.
-Nobody

Had it happen during Boston Marathon one year, was dealing with stomach issues all day and had it happen right about the half-way mark in Wellesley Sq. Luckily not much came out and there was a first aid station that had porta-pots just a few hundred yards up the road so I was able to clean up quickly.

During college when I ran XC we were out one day on a run when it was snowing and one of the guys on the team had a blowout, he actually used snow to help clean himself up.

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"You can never win or lose if you don't run the race." - Richard Butler

It is not a sure-fire cure for this problem. Sometimes it just happens anyway. However I fully agree here. I will delay getting any run started until I am certain I have pooped enough.

Not me but as I was finishing Challenge Knoxville a 17 year old kid ran by and the smell was awful to put it mildly. He had it all up and down his backside. I slowed down a little to make sure he was far enough ahead of me as we were getting ready to run down towards the finish line. I never saw him again and thankfully never smelled him again. It was bad!!!

The funny thing was people asking me, who don't do tri's, if people do this normally since we pee on the bike.

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TEAM HD
Each day is what you make of it so make it the best day possible.

All I am going to say is that stomach issues and sneezing fits do not go together very well...

i've had some clooooose calls. and i've squatted in some strange places. but thus far (knocking on wood) i've been lucky. including one time when running through the 'hood and coming upon a construction site with an unlocked portojohn, and being able to duck in. totallly saved me. i had another 3-4 miles before getting to my office, and it was early in the morning so everything was closed. (for anyone who knows philly, the portojohn was near the Wayne Junction train station, my run was basically from Mt. Airy to Temple U, taking Germantown Avenue to Broad st.) no way i would have made it the rest of the way. none. and no woods, either.

Freshman year of high school cross country... I was so nervous during the warmup (big race, first time running varsity) and I had to go bad! No woods around, no bushes (I'm from Illinois, lots of races were very "open")... I tried sprinting to the port-a-pottie and went all over myself before I could make it... Luckily it wasn't much (still couldn't definitely see it) so I cleaned myself up, just left the soiled running shorts in the port-a-pottie (threw them down in the toilet) and asked my coach for the extra shorts he always brought with him. People always seemed to forget parts of the uniform so he would bring a full set with him to each meet.

I have to believe he knew what happened because he didn't ask any questions and let me run :)

At least you were out for a run.

One time during crew practice in college, I had the need hit me so hard that I had to be shuttled by the coaching launch from the boat to the shore (which was thankfully a very wooded area).This forest was, however, not equipped with toilet paper, so I came back to the boat without my shirt. I still miss that shirt.

And the equally obvious take away - never ever pick up a lone sock/glove/headband found on the trail.

I've never actually shat myself running, but have had a whole heap of almosts. Especially when running in urban areas where there aren't trails that I can just duck to the side of.

I once just straight up knocked on somebody's front door and asked as politely as I could if I could use their toilet.
It was a bit of a lottery, as I had no idea who was going to answer or what their house was going to be like inside.

Luckily I got away with some very funny looks (they let me poop in their house).

ahaha I've had a similar experience. I was out doing a 5 mile lunch run (right on the IMTX course for anyone who knows the area). I started and stopped from market street area (very public and lots of people) just off the course by transition. At about mile 2 it got hit with the stomach gurgle. I figured I only had 3 miles left in the run, I can make it to the end of my run before I need to go. As I was running the last quarter of a mile along the sidewalk by market street, I got hit with the same "NO FUCKING WAY WILL YOU MAKE IT". Only problem is I was standing right in front of a high school/college couple out for a nice walk. I had to literally stop there and withstand the worst stomach pain of my life just holding it in. I got some funny looks but the pain was worth not crapping my pants in public. When the pain subsided, I did a funny waddle-run to the closest bathroom I could find after that.

Dude, I have too many stories of this and they are way to graphic for the internet. Only available in person, usually when coupled with a beer or 3.

My stories usually start with:
1) So this one time before a hard brick, my buddy and I go to Ikea and eat Swedish meatballs with gravy...
2) So before my long run I realize I haven't eaten yet and decide to eat a couple of slices of pizza that were left out overnight...
3) So half way thru my run I decide to drink a muscle milk....
4) I can't believe I was only 10 feet from my bathroom door....
5) For some reason I decided not to wear socks or bring wipey's with me...
6) While being a vegan for 2 years, I once ate a large amount of fruit salad with a lot of pineapple before a long run...

This thread makes me very thankful that I am pretty regular and don't have a story to add. I've been relieved to make it home a couple of times but that's it.

Funny this came up. It happened to me two days in a row in exactly the same place when I was visiting Scotland a couple of years ago. Dived in a hedge and had to avoid where I'd shat the day before.
But 3 days ago I was running my normal route and I just couldn't hold it in. There was nowhere to go without knocking on someone's door, but I remembered a small area of woodland not far away and prayed I could make it there. I did, just. But in my hurry to whip my shorts off and squat down, I didn't notice I was squatting on a red ant nest. Bit the shit out of me. Very unpleasant experience.

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"I was watching the London Marathon and saw one runner dressed as a chicken and another runner dressed as an egg. I thought: 'This could be interesting'."

I've never done it but I'm just waiting for it to happen. I live in Mississippi and my runs take me by a lot of wooded areas so whenever it does hit, hopefully I'll have a place to go.

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The best pace is a suicide pace, and today is a good day to die. -Steve Prefontaine

Your long run pack should consist of: water bottle, gu pack, wet wipes, 5 bucks.

we learn from our experiences!

Not me, but a friend (really).

There was a 10k loop he would do, and on this loop, about half way, was a port-a-john.

He starts his run, passes the port-a-john, but then feels the immediate....need. He turns around and uses the port-a-john.

There was no toilet paper. His choice was to run the rest of the way in crap-filled shorts or to use his shorts as toilet paper, I guess.

Oh...wait...there was a third option. Reach into the waste and re-use some toilet paper that someone else had used.

Yeah...he picked the third option.

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Chris Harris

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

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http://mediocremultisport.blogspot.com

This is why I LOVE running in the country. Plenty of bushes, ditches and other cover to scoot into to take care of that. On my common routes I have a number of Poo spots.

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NCCP certified Comp coach

My wife shits in the woods as part of every long run. She carries toilet paper and it's just part of her routine.

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Chris Harris

A few years ago after Kona, I was out at Huggo's on the Rocks with a few friends celebrating. I had been having some stomach discomfort for a couple hours after the race. I stood up from our table to head to the bathroom and got real lightheaded and ended up passing out on the sandy floor (MarkyV was there - maybe he can chime in with the particulars of that part of the incident that I don't have memory of). Anyway, when I regained consciousness one of the first things I remember saying was "I gotta shit."

Everyone that had surrounded me while I was on the floor cleared an immediate path to the head. I half stumbled/crawled/ran to the bathroom and didn't quite make it. Code brown. We're talking Level 5 alert code brown...no mistaking what had just happened if you were watching from behind.

I ended up spending the next 30-40 minutes sitting in the bathroom with an alternating member of our group to keep an eye on me while someone else went out to buy me a new pair of shorts.

Upside is that I felt great once that was over with and had finished on the AG podium at Kona. Down side is that I passed out and shit myself and was ordered to head back to the condo early.

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_________________________________
Steve Johnson
DARK HORSE TRIATHLON |

I am literally stunned into silence by this thread.

Yea? I've been silently laughing this entire time.

I only cycle; I hate running.

But honestly, I always make a poop before going out on a ride. Always. If I don't, I have to go during the ride. Which means bringing the bike in the bathroom with me or leaving it outside of a Subway or something. While I'm pooping. Covered in sweat. No sir.

This isn't like...a regular bowel movement from normal digestion, people are apparently regularly liquefying the waste in their colons while they run. I mean...people have designated "poo spots"...I must not be running hard enough.

Yea that kinda disturbs me. Every runner has had the emergency scenario come up at least once in a while. However if this were a regular occurrence I would think some sort of change in diet would be in order.

I've destroyed two pairs of running shorts since I could t make it to bushes in time. I've made countless trips to the bushes. Even stopped in an elementary school. I walked in the office and just said bathroom. They laughed and pointed. Thank god they didn't make me fill out paper work.

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_________________________________
The curious task of economics is to demonstrate to men how little they really know about what they imagine they can design.

I think I sharted once but not enough to say I "shit my pants" ... I remember running the rest of the way still wondering if anything came out.

I did take a shit right next to the Brentwood Country Club here in Los Angeles mid run. Imagine a very very populated area with heavy traffic (but more of a suburban feel than an inner city one). The country club sits on a big plot of land with a 2.1 mile dirt track around it. I literally had to shit so bad that I just squatted outside on the track... luckily it was at night.

I remember the day this happened to me. I will never forget it.

I had eaten Mexican food before my run. I was only planning on doing 6 miles. The lake near my house has a nice paved 3 mile run loop through the woods. The first mile I felt fine. The second mile, I could feel some gas building up. The trail is saturated with people. By people, I mean lots of women and a few men. A 10:1 ratio almost. A lot of these girls went to the same university I did. Here I am at mile 2 and the bathroom is located at mile 3. My stomach is furious. It was unhappy that I had given it such delicious Mexican food and then I bounced it around for 2 miles.

I felt such an intense pressure in my bowels. I tried to fart it out. It was such a huge pressure relief. Trying to fart while running around a bunch of girls and moms is not an easy process. Stealth farts only work for a bit.

The pressure is now gone. I'm jogging again and suddenly my stomach just punches me hard and goes, yep, it's time for you to take one massive shit. I was terrified. I'm at mile 2 with 1 mile to go. There's people everywhere.

My first thought is jump in the lake and just let it out. But then, that would look weird. People would be wondering why this random guy is in the lake. I tried to walk. Have you ever tried to walk while holding back a massive flood of shit? I looked awful walking and the looks people gave me let me know they knew. They could see the terror in my eyes.

I was looking for my girlfriend. I was hoping she wouldn't find me in such a bad situation. I tried farting to relieve some pressure and felt some slippage. Fear turned to panic. I knew I wouldn't make it.

I stopped walking and stood looking at the lake. My stomach was making horrible noises and I was in pain. People were passing me oblivious to the shit storm that was coming.

Then, I saw the tree. THE TREE. The one tree that would save me. I walked fast up to this glorious, wonderful tree and it looked big enough to shield me from the runners. I had a quick decision to make. Do I unload on this poor tree or keep walking and hope for the best? I timed it just right. There weren't any runners around me that would hear the coming battle between me and my stomach.

As the pain hit me again, I dropped my running shorts and destroyed that tree. I heard people coming and thought "Why me, why today, of all places"? I was terrified someone would see and recognize me in such a vulnerable state. I unleashed everything I had on that poor tree as fast as possible. Then, I looked up and saw the people in the house in front of the tree.

I couldn't tell if they were looking at me or if they even saw me. I mean, it's pretty hard to miss a guy in a white running shirt with black shorts just shitting on your tree in your yard. I felt amazing. I pulled my shorts up, covered up the giant pile of poo with leaves and sticks and jumped back on the trail which was literally 3 feet away.

All is good I thought. I figured I had ruined my running shorts and that people could smell the horrible leftovers that may have skidmarked my shorts. My strategy was to run as far to the left and right as possible of any person I came around on the trail. I would give them at least 2 feet in hopes that wouldn't smell me. I'm sure I looked ridiculous as I ran off and on the trail trying desperately to find my girlfriend and get to my car.

I'm now about 0.25 miles away from the poor tree that was left to suffer. I was happy, carefree, and laughing on the inside about what happened. At that very moment, my stomach said HELLO AGAIN, IT'S TIME TO FIGHT!

That's when fear turned to panic once again as this pain told me that I had seconds to find another tree. I was sweating bad. This train of poo was coming, and it was coming fast.

I saw 2 guys and 2 girls grilling out on their back porch. I said to myself, "well, you have already pooed on tree on a public trail in front of someones house", "go ask to use their bathroom"

So I ran up to them trying to hold back the poo train. I said "Hi, my names Bryan, and I have to shit really bad. I just shit on a tree in front of someone's house about 3 minutes ago. Can I please use your bathroom or I'm going to jump in the lake."

The guy looked at me confused at first and the women were horrified. He goes "quick, this way." He ran to his bathroom and showed me the way. It was the most beautiful toilet I have ever seen in my life.

The guys dog chased me to the bathroom and was clawing at the door. I heard him growling and sniffing as the poo train left the station rapidly. I'm pretty sure that toilet will never be the same again. The dog took one big sniff and he ran away outside. Dog problem solved! I finished up and went back outside and told them "thank you for letting me destroy your toilet. I'm pretty sure the Hazmat team should be called and FEMA might call this a disaster zone. Please don't go in there for a bit, even the dog couldn't handle it" They laughed so hard, shook my hand, and now after the 2nd most awkward moment of my day, I jogged back to the trail with a fresh, clean butthole.

I found my girlfriend at the 3 mile mark. She goes "Where are you, I've been looking for you". I said, "We need to leave, RIGHT NOW!"She was confused and we jogged to the car. We get inside the car and she said "What's wrong, why did we have to leave so quick" I then explained to her the 2 Code Brown situations and how we must leave immediately.

She laughed so hard and I told her we would never again speak of that day again.

That's my code brown story. Every time I run that trail, I pass that tree and laugh because I never in my life thought I would shit on someones tree in their front yard and then ask 4 people for a toilet all in 1 run.

No more Mexican food before a run. Ever.

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Make Inside Out Sports your next online tri shop! http://www.insideoutsports.com/

I thought crapping in the woods, ditches or strangers' yards in low light was the norm for running. I don't even think of that as embarrassing anymore.

~10 years ago I parked my car at the base of my driveway (Not sure why I went to the base instead of just outside the garage) to have room to work on my bike in the garage. I finally bought a pair of legit road pedals and shoes. While rolling down the driveway and looking down at my feet, I hit my own parked car head on (just as I looked up) and laid myself out on the hood with one foot still attached. There's really nobody to get mad at except myself, so I just chose to laugh along with my neighbor.

I'm sorry man, but that was the funniest damn thing I have read in a very long time. Extra points for so eloquently wording that story.

x2

x2.

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Pink? Maybe. Maybe not. You decide.

I am not particularly ashamed of running into the woods for the call of nature, but what do you do if you are in a population dense area but no bathroom in sight?

Edited to add;

OK I just read BryanD's story. Now I know what I would do. Shit on a tree and then beg someone to use their bathroom.

You could do what I saw a homeless guy in Hollywood do at 5:30 am on my way to work. Standing on the sidewalk, pants at his ankles, hovering over the gutter with ass to the street, just letting it out. All I could think was, "At least he had the decency to shit in the street and not on the sidewalk."

I am dying over here. This thread was worth the price of admission.

x2 OMG that was funny! I could see my house one time but had to hide behind a tree half the size of me wearing a bright dayglo yellow jacket. It was beside the door of the primary school but fortunately was at 6 am. Covered it up with snow. Unfortunately there was a bus stop 100 ft away with occupants being thoroughly entertained.

Indeed, this thread is gold.

Thankfully, I've never had to take a crap outside. I have, however, done the butt-clinching waddle for about a half-mile to make it home in order to NOT crap my pants.

This is pure gold!

This thread is destined for greatness.

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Travis Rassat
Vector Cycle Works
Noblesville, IN
BikeFit Instructor | FMS | F.I.S.T. | IBFI
Toughman Triathlon Series Ambassador

Well, no shit involve here but two races ago, I came to flying dismount and caught my new trisuit short on my rear bottle holder and ripped my shorts all the way up close to my man parts. Racked the bike and looked down and things were barely covered. Trying to think of what to do, then saw my bib race belt on the ground, grabbed it and made sure the bib number was covering the frontal area and ran the 10 miles. Luckily nothing came loose and finished and won enough prize money to get a new suit.

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SmartBikeTrainers.com || YouTube || My Twitter

Just don't be this girl....

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Chicago Cubs - 2016 WORLD SERIES Champions!!!!

"If ever the time should come, when vain and aspiring men shall possess the highest seats in government, our country will stand in need of its experienced patriots to prevent its ruin." - Samuel Adams

I tend to have the most trouble while running in European cities:

1) Paris: At Place de l'Alma. I found out later that I shat almost directly over where Princess Diana died in a car crash.
Strava link not available (sorry!)

2) Paris (two years later): On a tree in the Jardin des Tuileries after clenching it in while looking for a public toilet, Starbucks, or McDonalds at 7 a.m. on Palm Sunday.
http://labs.strava.com/...ity_header#185529146 (you can see my toilet search begin at about 1:00:00, and pausing for relief at 1:15:00)


3) Venice: In a canal.
http://labs.strava.com/...ity_header#185529141 (at about 26:00)

4) London: St. James Park (behind a bush):
http://labs.strava.com/...ity_header#279936912 (at about the 12:00 mark)

Only poo'd the pants once. Was at a soccer camp the summer going into my freshman year in highschool. Felt it come on, went to jog across the field to get to the bathroom. It was too late, just stood there on the sideline letting it flow. Then ran into the woods, cleaned myself up the best I could and went back to the camp.

I have had and continue to have super close calls. My parents live in the country so when I wasn't able to hold it, into the woods I went. Happened a few times. Now I live in the city. I have had 3-4 close calls that I've either found a bathroom or was able to walk a mile or two to get home. One time I was definitely searching down the alleys for a flower pot or trashcan but the pain subsided. I'm so used to it now that I USUALLY am able to slow down soon enough to manage the need to poo.

Anyone have good tips for fixing this issue? I have tried changing my diet. I'm starting to run a .5-1 mile warm up to get the stomach turning. Hoping that it'll do the trick.

I haven't done it, but I HAVE run shirtless and sweating into a museum, right past the security guard, into the bathroom, to KEEP from doing it. He wasn't amused... but I think he understood, lol

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�What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.� -A.W. Tozer
"The best things in life make you sweaty." -Barbara W.
"I was never great at math, so I had to learn to run faster." -Robbie Sandlin
�Life is like a 10-speed bicycle. Most of us have gears we never use.� Charles Schultz

And that is why I run on trails, plenty of cover, just be careful what you wipe with ;)

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Rodney
TrainingPeaks | Altra Running | RAD Roller
http://www.goinglong.ca

Code brown.. It happens. Been there a few more times than I would care to admit, actually that's a lie I admit to them all. It's a humbling, grounding reality check for all the self absorbed type A's out there that frequent the sport.

Sometimes, usually between mile 10 and 15 shit happens. You're a runner now.

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I learned a long time ago that the only pertinent information you offer is found within the last sentence.

Oh I get it. In fact I have left an otherwise perfectly good beanie in the woods myself. I just feel real bad for someone who came along with cold ears and decided to try it on.

/clap

This should be Thread Of The Year because it is hilarious!

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DISH is how we do it.

Had an extremely close call resulting in the loss of my favorite beanie running hat. Probably ruined a few disc jockeys day also. Was out running in the country right after the fields were harvested. Had the trickle of sweat running down my temple signifying the start of something bad. I was 2 miles from home and there was no cover. Two weeks earlier I would have had plenty or corn fields to hide in. As I got closer to home the meat sweats started kicking in and I knew I was in trouble. Headed for the only cover out there- what I thought was an old radio station in the middle of nowhere. Ran to the back of the building and saw a couple of plastic chairs. Grabbed the back of one for balance and let rip. Never felt such relief. As I'm finishing up the push I'm noticing all the cigarette butts scattered near the chairs. Dawned on me the radio station wasn't abandoned and I was currently befouling the smoking area of the d.j.'s at a sad little polish radio station. Not sure if I regretted losing my beanie more or leaving such a horrible package for those folks.

"That prune smoothie seemed like a good idea at the time."

This thread and your Kona story reminded me of one my favorite Kona crapping related posts on ST:

http://forum.slowtwitch.com/...post=5297493#5297493

I have come only twice sock less. I have an iron gut but 6 miles from home on a bike/run trail with no bathrooms I was basically about to bust a seal so I jumped in the woods, thankfully it's jungle like here in summer.
I was watching people walk by while shitting, can't say I've done that anywhere else.

I don't remember where this quote was from but it fits this thread perfectly.
" never shake the hand of a runner with 1 sock"

I've had that a few times when I've had to duck behind some bushes, but the most embarrassing was when x-country skiing. Its winter and there are no leaves on the trees so its harder to hide. So, I'm all alone with my dog in the backwoods, or so I think. I go just off the trail and tuck behind a tree but am visible from the trail. Right in the middle of it two young good looking gals go by on their skis and look in my direction. When finished I just headed back in the direction I had come rather than take the risk of catching up to them. :-(

Been there and done that many times. I now carry t-tissue on long runs or I run with porta potties nearby. One one evening run (seems to happen more at that time of the day) I encountered a co-worker (someone important that is) and I had to go so bad. I just took off from a brief conversation with this person and ran behind bushes. Thankfully it was dark....
Check your diet and eat light before long runs. Drink a warm beverage before long runs.

Dude, I laughed so hard I cried. I can't wait to tell my wife.

When I lived on the South Side of Chicago, I had a few memorable craps. On long run Saturdays or Sundays, I'd run north from 63rd and LSD. In the summer, I'd try to be out before it was too hot. That meant I was out before the public restrooms unlocked at 7am. The terrible cramping and urge hit me as I ran north, with only grass and the lake on my right. I fortunately, the south side LSD is remote and open, so no one saw me running wildly into the grassy to find some place to unleash. I was really fortunate that someone had a picnic the day before and left a stack of Subway napkins on the ground, spotless. It was a miracle, and so was that tree I shat behind. I continued on my planned 15 miler, only to find an unoccupied Port-a-john 1/4 mile away.

In Tulsa, the cramps hit me as I ran parallel to the Arkansas River on the trail by the railroad tracks on Turkey Mountain. The restroom was a mile up the hill. some really unlucky person driving on Riverside across the river might have seen my bare assed production.

Ya got me beat on that one...just can't compete on that. You win the gold!

I like a story I heard on marathon talk. There was a guy was out running in Hyde Park in London when nature called. He went around the back of some bushes and let it all out, and just as he finished a dog ran over to him. He pulled his shorts up and was about to head on his way when the dog's owner came around to find his dog. The responsible owner looked at the ground and saw the pile of crap, assumed it was from his dog, so got out his poop bag and scooped up what he could. The runner fled the scene very embarrassed!

I haven't had it "in" yet, but came close countless times. Going before the run doesn't help at all either.
My local runs are close to the beach (always people around, walking the dog or whatever, be it 6AM or 10PM) and consists of 3-4-5 or 6km run out-and-back. If you would have to plant a flag for every place I had to run-for-cover-and-relief, you could walk the entire 12k run on the flags and not touch the ground.

The most memorable are when I had suffered some disastrous stomach issue's, it did not come out, it flew out, like 3mtrs futher. Although I was in the bushes, "it" was jettisoned and landed smack in the middle of the bike-path on the other side of a small water-canal. And this was in the middle of an interval run, my body was properly "fired-up". My wife came along for the "special" run since it was a long interval and she carried the fluids. Although shocked, she was impressed ....

I always carry a small packs with kid's nose-wipes, in that also my id, a 5� note and enough paper to go at least 2x. It helps with hair being removed back there. You tend to need less paper to "clean-up", unless you clenched during firing or the gun went off to soon... In which case, you're done for anyway.

Kinda shamefull but hilarious thread though. Also somewhat comforting to find out I'm not the only one around,

S.

In Chicago as well and thankfully have never had a blowout but sooo many close calls. Same challenge as you absolutely no place to hide. Even if it's 5am and you're at the very north side of the lake front trail there are always people around, on the flip side on the far south side of the trail I would be nervous OF the people around.

My closest call had me considering jumping into the lake and trying to pull it off in the water..just decided that was too dam gross and hobbled the last 3 miles home instead. That 3 miles felt like more "endurance" was pulled off than an entire 140.6.

90% plant based diet so when I go I'm fairly confident that I've cleaned the pipes (all the fiber etc)..on the other hand that type of diet does produce a lot of gas..and you can never..ever..trust a fart.

This thread has made me feel much better about myself, for a fairly new runner that has had to do the squat behind a bush a few times on a long run.

But seriously why are you all wasting pieces of clothing? You need to move to Australia where gum trees are in abundance. Those leaves have the perfect texture and leave your ass with a nice mild eucalyptus smell, beautiful!

Yeah it get bad at times. At least in the summer they have portopotties by baseball fields but in winter there is NOTHING. That is brutal. No bathrooms and only snow and ice. Let's just hope I make good decisions food wise the rest of the time before long runs!

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Twitter - Instagram

Dude,

Shit happens.........

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Pink? Maybe. Maybe not. You decide.

Now that is funny!

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Jason
None of the secrets of success will work unless you do.

The general question I have...is this correlated to harder runs, or does any run do this to you?

YMMV but IME it seems hillier runs upset my stomach more that flat runs but depending on what and when you ate last, anything could cause it.

I have two theories. The first is a microbial imbalance in the intestines which is somehow made worse by exercise. The second is that some people may start shutting down organ systems during endurance races earlier than others. Science needs to explain this. By the way, I went for a run yesterday, a tempo run for that matter. I was able to finish the run, go to Tokyo Joes and have some food. Get home, let the dogs out, and then I went to the bathroom - perfectly normal.

I was wondering about this too.

I am still baffled (but highly amused) by this thread. I can hold it for days if it feels like there is no good opportunity to have a comfortable poop. I have done that on sailing trips - not by any conscious decision, it just happens. So I have never had any of these experiences while running, and nothing close to it either as far as I can remember.

Yet I do 20-25 km (12.4-15.5 mile) runs at least once a week. Is that too little or is there something wrong with me or my diet? ;-)

Around here you have to be careful what plants you touch. Poison Ivy leaves look nearly perfect to wipe with... until the next day comes around and you find yourself in extreme distress for the 2+ weeks it takes the rash to go away...

I have shat in the bushes so many times that I have literally lost count. I live and usually run in a rural area near my home just outside of Edmonton, so I've got that going for me, but it's infuriating nonetheless. It doesn't matter if I go first, when it happens on a run, my guts don't care how digested the stuff is or how due it is. Even though I've never been caught, or dropped a load in my drawers, it's goddamn humiliating to find myself, once again, squatting in the bushes.

I always run with a stash of toilet paper in a Ziploc bag, and have used it many times. I forgot my supplies once and got caught out and had to wipe my ass with my favourite (white of course) shirt. I blister so easily I never would've made it home if I'd used a sock. There was no way I was throwing away my shirt, so I carried that shitty mess all the way home.

Frequent post-run conversation with my wife:

Mrs. Marlonius: How was your run?
Me: Don't ask.
Her: Did you have to shit in the bushes again?

You know you're on Slowtwitch when you read a thread about shitting yourself and there are posts that can back up their claims with Strava links.

Chapeaux, good sir.

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"I eased off a bit. It never feels like you are easing off. More like you just stake out your place in the pain cave and sit there rather than venturing deeper inside..." -- Rappstar

I have never been part of such a miracle as you experienced, but I have actually willingly and happily used the 43rd street bathrooms on the Lakeshore path during a gastrointestinal catastrophe encountered in my first-ever 18 mile run.

The 43rd Street Lakeshore Drive bathrooms make the toilet in Trainspotting look like Mr. Clean's fridge. They are like an autopsy of an elephant made of turds. They are the tenth ring of Hell.

I never before, and never since, have been so happy to be alone as I was for that half hour I spent there.

That wasn't the third option. The number of options ahead of THAT, which include running home naked past the elementary school, cannot even be counted.

I once shat in a gazebo in front of the wealthiest neighborhood in the city, 15 meters form a dude mowing the lawn. Any port in a storm.

I took two shits prior to my run and was feeling good. Just before leaving out the door, I felt a gargle in my stomach that settled just as quickly as it emerged, so I thought I was good to go. 8 minutes into my run there are Porta potty's and a public restroom. Approximately five minutes into my run, I had a clenching sensation in my gut. Again, it came and went quickly, so I thought that I would be okay. Unfortunately for me, the Porta potty's are located on the other side of a 50 yard bridge. I made it halfway over the bridge when my gut said no more. I stopped running with literally nowhere to hide, and the next thing I know it was coming whether I wanted to or not. Thankfully, my lovely saucony running shorts have a built-in diaper that carried my shit for me so only a trace amount of it ended up on my right leg. While sprinting to the bathroom, round two let loose.

I completed the shit on the toilet, and began using toilet paper to clean my shorts. During the process of scooping the brown goo out of my shorts, I managed to decorate my hands. I pulled up the brown stained shorts and proceeded home in shame after washing my hands with only water. Yum. At this point I was laughing. Things took a turn for the hilarious when a hot runner chick going the other direction turned around (apparently at the end of her out and back loop) immediately after passing me. Thankfully she instantly began walking. High probability this was related to some mysterious odor.

Upon returning home, I immediately put in my contacts, ate a sandwich, washed my hands about a dozen times with antiseptic soaps to include hibiclens, and showered twice. Maybe not in that order.

Let's just say I learned the hard way that I can't have Indian food within 4 hours of a run. An easy z2 run quickly turned into a tempo run to try to make it home which quickly............
This happened twice but I didn't learn my lesson until the second time.

Many years ago I was on a competitive team at the Hood to Coast relay race in Oregon. I was running a 5 mile leg in the early morning. I don't remember the exact time, but it was very dark and not far off the time I usually do my morning dump. Well, I just had to go...badly, but since I was racing for the team, I didn't want to stop. I was probably a mile from my finish when I just let loose. There was nothing I could do. Fortunately, it was so dark nobody could tell even when I handed my bracelet to the next guy. Unfortunately, I had to get back in the van. All I could do was hit a porta potty first and do the best I could to clean up with some baby wipes. While in the van, I could tell I didn't smell too good. Nobody said anything though.

There's a bathroom almost every mile or two along the whole lakefront path, you just have to know where they are.

In many years of running, this has *never* happened to me. Except my last two runs... Left the house for a 7 miler, stomach not great. Kinda came and went, interestingly less discomfort the faster I ran. Mile 4 was a climb, so hard effort and no need to go, despite passing a portapot on a totally accessible golf course. Should I stop? Nah, feeling fine right now... Mile 4.5 - hills end and ugh - about to blow. Trying to find the sweet spot of intensity, waddling and making progress toward the public golf course, where a real bathroom awaits. Made it, but just barely. Two days later, all set for a hilly 4.5 run. Didn't really start - 1st hill at mile zero was a butt clench. Tottered about 0.3 miles to a public nature center. Explosion, but inside the target zone. Totally fine run after that. Totally panicked for this weekend's runs...

Yeah, problem is I try to get the runs (no pun intended) out of the way very early, and most times I've checked the places are still locked. It's not an every day thing but when it has come to close calls I've been burned too many times going up to one of those buildings.

What I do now is a 4am wake up, cup of coffee while commenting on ST, bathroom, then out the door by 430. Usually working from Montrose up north and back, and repeat as necessary.

Where are you out of curiosity Windy? If you're ever up for a ride or a run let me know.

The scene was a nice winter run, after dark, with the bride and another running buddy. "George" is a high strung sales type guy who worries more about other people's sweat and farts than anyone I have ever run with.

Its roughly 12F and we are cruising into a brisk north wind on a road between endless grape arbors when the gurgles started. Naturally they got loud enough that my wife and "George" could hear them. Quick progress to clenching and I find myself looking urgently for a spot. Sighting a farm driveway ahead I told them I would catch up later and bolted off the road. Opting for slight cover in the form of a tree next to a culvert I dash over and drop my pants, nearly stepping on the very disturbed o'possum that came booking out of the culvert. Took care of business in an impressive explosion of gas and partially solid matter. I am usually equipped for longer runs but this one was only planned for seven miles, so I found a smooth rock to use for a squeegee. Can anyone say frozen 'taint?

On a positive note, without my headlamp I might have squatted on the darn 'possum!

Smooth sailing for the rest of the run, though it was over a mile before my equipment warmed back up.

My wife and "George" still ride me about that pit stop.

Or running long enough or early enough. I don't think its possible to do a 2+ hour run early without a mid to late run poo. My designated spot is a 24 hour McDonalds on the route.

And unfortunately the digestive system doesn't seem to work until about a hour after waking up, so there is no way I am going to wake up at 4 am for a 5 am run!

That's why I HATE DD! No empathy to fellow human beings whatsoever.

I do carry some cash with me just for these cases. If the situation arises - just leave barista a $5 tip and use the facilities. If that happens often enough - people will start remembering you :)

FTW!

Yeah I ended up getting water then giving it to a homeless man outside who chugged it down and was so happy to get it. So the stop wasn't a total waste! But I do need to bring even just a dollar on longer runs. That way I can buy a donut, candy, or gum wherever I might need to stop. But, thankfully, it doesn't happy too often so I don't think to bring it all the time.

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Twitter - Instagram

If they deny you the bathroom you could always download your intestinal sculpture in the bushes in front of the store in retaliation LOL.

I'm shocked that Paula Radcliffe's little... incident... during the 2005 London marathon (which she won!) hasn't come up in this thread. Shame on you all! Talk about having no where to hide... leading a big-city marathon with TV cameras and spectators everywhere.

(Video may not be safe for work, or when eating).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6I2-YP42rs

I see your Lakeshore Drive and raise you a Prospect Park Porta-John, in full mid-day August sun. That's worth a whole lap of wretching. In retrospect I should have just taken the trip to Brown Town and called it a day.

But my best Code Brown happened in the pristine woods of New Hampshire, in the White Mountains. I was there on a backpacking trip that was part of med school orientation. It was the first day, and I was just getting to know my 9 new classmates. We stopped for lunch after a steep uphill climb into the Kinsmans, and as nature called, I excused myself to duck into the trees to answer discreetly.

Now, I'm an experienced backpacker, and shitting in the woods wasn't a problem for me. I did my normal thing. I dug a 8-inch deep hole in the topsoil near a small tree (this was in a dense grove of head-high pine trees), wrapped my hands around the tree, and leaned back for a comfortable squat. I did my business into the hole, and cleaned myself with some available pine branches (more pleasant than you'd guess if you go with the grain, and nicely scented). I was taking a last second to myself to enjoy the little patch of vista I'd cleverly arranged to have from my spot, when all of a sudden, something changed.

The tree I was gripping for balance with both hands suddenly jumped up out of the ground, roots and all. For a second, time stopped. I saw the root ball of the tree, now suspended in the air. Then, it was like I was outside my own body, and I saw myself hovering - my center of gravity way behind my feet - like Wiley Coyote off the edge of the cliff. And then I tumbled backwards. Into the hole. Into my hole. I landed in a soft warm pile of my own shit. Still holding that fucking tree.

When the dust settled, it was a Grade III Code Brown (ass, back, shirt). The shorts were (mercifully) spared. But the shirt was toast. I had a plastic bag for it, but no spare (short sleeved) shirt. It took me about 30 minutes to clean myself up. (Pine branches, hand sanitizer). By the time I returned they were about to start looking for me. But here I was - shirtless, covered in sweat and pine-needles, reeking of hand sanitizer, and holding a suspiciously tightly tied plastic bag.

"What happened to you?"

I realized there was no way I could spin this. I said, "Guys, I'm just going to be straight with you, because you seem cool and I can't come up with a convincing lie. The truth is, a bad thing happened, and I'm not really sure how or why, but the end result is that I fell into a pile of my own shit. All I can do is beg you not to tell everyone at school about this, because I don't want to be known as the guy who fell in his own shit on the first day of med school. Also, I need to borrow a shirt from somebody." [Waved plastic bag for emphasis.]

They were totally stunned. Nobody said anything. Eventually one guy gave me a spare T-shirt and said, "I'm just really glad it didn't happen to me."

Turns out they were cool about it, mostly because the story was just too gross to actually talk about. Also, another kid got giardiasis, so after two weeks he satisfied everyone's shit-talking needs. The moral of the story is: (1) If you're going to do the "lean back," choose a big tree, (2) pivot for the wipe. Be safe out there kids.

-Mud

Hahahahahahaha, dude that's terrible. My wife is asking what I am laughing at, "nothing dear" :-) I think this thread is jinxing me, on both my rides this weekend my stomach was making all kinds of sounds and feeling weird, I should have never read this thread.

My story I typically save for when things start to get sad with a running partner on a very long trail run or the last few miles of an ugly fondo to lighten the mood.

The day after a grueling hot 50k trail race my legs felt like concrete, still full of junk from the day before. My plan was for an easy shake out jog, maybe just 2-3 miles in an out and back fashion. About half a mile out my front door there was a loud strange noise from my guts akin to a warm up session of Satan's own personal brass band. I figured it was just gas and kept going. From there things began to decline at an alarming pace. At the mile point I got the cold sweats and officially began to panic. Turned it right the hell around and tried to pick up the pace and get home fast. The pain got so intense after just a hundred yards I was slowed to a waddle trot. My watering eyes were frantically scanning my suburban neighborhood for a hiding place. It was perhaps 20 minutes before dark and my neighbors were doing their last minute things in front of their houses with their kids and pets. There was nowhere to hide to release the demons and I looked like a deranged rabid lunatic lurching down the street.

Knowing I was in a lot of trouble, I focused on maintaining my telltale waddle/trot/speedwalk form and finally my house was in sight. I opted to skip the driveway which is 75 yards past the start of my lawn and aimed my trajectory up the small hill in my front yard. I set a plan to drop trou about 5 yards before I hit the front walk as I figured my odds of being sighted were lower at that point and it was totally worth the gamble considering the appreciable discomfort I was sustaining. Half way up the pitch I realized that there was no way I was going to make it- game over. I clenched my cheeks in a futile last ditch effort, the effect of which was to simply decrease the diameter of the output area and increase the trajectory of discharge. The liner of my running shorts was at max capacity in a fraction of a second and as I burst into my front door it was running down my thighs and well on it's way to my socks. I ran straight into the bathroom and what was on me was immediately somehow on the floor, toilet, sink, walls and any other surface within 5-6 feet. My wife meanwhile was terrified and shouting from another room, I could clearly hear her from the dark place I was at the bottom of. She apparently thought due to my violent entry into our front door and all of the noise that I was a home intruder. When she realized it was me and caught a whiff of the smell and commotion in the bathroom she only laughed at me and left me to my mess and shame.

So yes, you are not a real runner until you have crapped yourself.
>hobby runner

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"It never gets easier, you just go faster."
-Greg LeMond

If you're going to do the "lean back," choose a big tree


This happened to a guy I was in the service with, chose a sapling and was also on a slope so of course when the thing snapped he tumbled backwards downhill with his pants still around his ankles.

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"You can never win or lose if you don't run the race." - Richard Butler

One of my buddies was out on Bourbon St when he had to go really badly. He went into the closest store and asked about bathroom. No, for paying customers only. So he whips out a $20, offers it to them and urgently says, NOW where's the bathroom. She still wouldn't allow it. So he took two steps backward, looked her straight in the eye, and said "well...OK................."

I read this entire thread. Is this that common of a malady? Am I just somehow lucky? I have never had any problems with these issues. I can't imagine even sticking with training if I knew this would be a semi-regular occurrence.

(full disclosure - I have run a couple 100's, and these horror stories I have previously read were the reasoning for me to carry immodium tablets with me during those races. Fortunately, I have never needed them)

I've had this happen a couple of times through the years. The worst was in college, the day after Thanksgiving. I went for a 10 mile run. I got about 6 miles into the run and noticed my intestines weren't happy. The problem was I was in the middle of farm fields with nothing growing in them. I had about 3 miles to go to the nearest gas station. I didn't want to go knocking on some local house asking to use their bathroom. Besides it was Black Friday, so everyone would be out shopping. Thankfully, I was passing by the local airport (think prop planes). Luckily, the flight office was open and the woman there was nice enough to let me use the restroom.

The other bad time in college was literally starting to crap my pants a mile from campus. Nothing was falling out, but new it was going to be close. Went into the closest dorm, had one of my must satisfying craps ever, threw my underwear away in the bathroom, then went commando back to my dorm to shower.

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"Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps"
Blog = http://extrememomentum.com|Photos = http://wheelgoodphotos.com

Just had to chime in. 16 mile run where the first loop is 12 miles then out another 4 mile loop. My car and the toilet are parked at mile 12. The huge bowl of Pho noodles seemed like a good idea the night before.
The gurgle hit at mile 10. Didn't make it to 11. I ran over the rock hillside as I spotted a tree only to find a neighborhood next to that tree. And it was yards away from the trail entrance. Too late. I had to go. I realized that if a family walks by I am basically busted for indecent exposure and forever having to say "I have to warn you by law...."
Oh but I don't stop there. All pooped filled shorts due to no wipes I forged on. Did I stop at the bathroom? Hell no because I wouldn't stop durning a race. I finished the 4 mile loop with shitty shorts. The rash was agony. The shower was worse. I saw God

I don't know if anyone has mentioned it yet, but Uta Pippig had several bowel problems (including diarrhea) during the 1996 Boston Marathon. That's impressive, since she still won. I could imagine her trying to wash herself as much as possible with water cups after the race...:)

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"Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps"
Blog = http://extrememomentum.com|Photos = http://wheelgoodphotos.com

In the spirit of the 6 watts/kg thread I wonder if dumps can be measured this way? If so I guesstimate the dump I just downloaded at the pool was approaching 8 watts/kg. I looked back to appreciate and the commercial commode was even choking on it. #proudpapa

In my opinion, that was not only the funniest post I have ever read here on ST, which brought me to tears laughing so hard, it may just have been the most well written post ever on ST. Seriously, thank you, I really needed a good laugh. Plus, I've harmed nature in a similar manner, but nowhere near as awesome as a story that goes along with it.

you so did it...;)

"And the Gambler, he broke even . . . "

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What are you people, on dope?

—Mr. Hand

I feel this thread has brought back the "good ole days" of Slowtwitch back. Thank you. Hilarious.

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________________
Adrian in Vancouver

Just a guess, but I think your best option would have been the lake. That's one helluva story. I can't believe those people let you unleash in their bathroom.

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________________
Adrian in Vancouver

ok, I finally laughed aloud.

ref. " . . . . fell off the jetway again . . . "

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What are you people, on dope?

—Mr. Hand

People of Slowtwitch,

I have shit my pants again recently. This was about 2 months ago. This time, it was almost just as epic.

Here's what happened. My girlfriend had some leftover pasta with shrimp in it. I pulled it out of the fridge and covered it in cheese.

I waited about 30-45 minutes before starting my 8 mile run. I felt good, was ready to run, got all my gear ready and headed out the door. Nothing happened until about mile 3. The first 3 miles, I felt great! I've been battling my Achilles since May and finally I was having a decent run. That's when the farts started. I don't know about you, but I think it's fun to fart when running. I feel like I get a turbo boost out of it. It was casual farts at first. Just a few small ones here and there followed by a big long one. I think I gained 30 secs per mile after that one. People were nearby walking but I didn't care because damnit, I needed to run faster.

I round the turn for 3 miles and head down a long stretch of road. This road is 2 lanes, turn lane, 2 lanes. I live near the university I went too and there is traffic everywhere not to mention college people running around, especially women.

I'm heading down the road and then my stomach gets bloated and I start having to fart like crazy. I think "oh no, here we go again". I'm now running down the road hunched over because of all the stomach pain I'm having. My stomach is going "TIME TO SHIT ASSHOLE". I see a cutoff to a trail before I get to a creek crossing. I'm frantically looking for a place to drop my shorts and do the doo.

Then, this middle aged man comes running by. The brush is so high I can't help but think a snake is going to bite my ass. I'm hunched over farting and looking like a crazy man. I see two young college age girls on the trail. I can't shit right here. Not in front of these people.

Then, I look at the creek and I see that it's my only way out. My butthole is slipping. This turd train is ready to leave the depot. The creek is about 5 feet below the bank. People can see down in the creek from the sidewalk as well as driving by. I run and jump and land in the middle of the creek in the rocky area.

I jump over the creek and stand against the river bank. I listen for people to come by. The middle aged man is back running along the trail again. I wait till he leaves and unleash hell on that riverbank. It was such a nasty shit. I'm talking explosive pasta diarrhea everywhere. It smelled bad. I pull my shorts up just as these two asian guys come walking by looking at me kind of funny like "why is this random guy in the creek?". I wave and they go on. Then, my stomach said it's time for round 2. I'm just about to jump back over the creek and I had to go again. I lean against the riverbank and shit everywhere again. This time, I look back to see what I had accomplished. Oh man, I had shit all over the bank, all over my shorts, some was on my shoe, and there were flies everywhere now.

I cleaned off my shoe, used my waterbottle to squirt water at my butthole and clean it off, and squirted water all over my shorts. Then, I found out I had shit on my handheld waterbottle. I cleaned it off in the creek. After solving this problem, I'm now stuck in a creek bed, flies everwhere, shit all over me, and no way out. I run and jump over the creek onto the bank. I climb up over the bank and the old man is looking at me like "why were you in the creek?" I look down at my shirt and I have shit on my shirt. How did I get shit on my shirt? I quickly spray what's left of my water bottle on my shirt and legs to clean everything off.

I was at mile 4 when all of this happened. I ran 4 more miles because I needed to get this long run done. I made sure to avoid people on the sidewalk because I didn't want them to smell me. I went home and threw my water bottle away. There was no way I could possibly drink out of that again.

After the longest shower of my life, I went to my local tri shop. They asked me how my day was going. I burst out laughing and told them I just shit my pants on a long run, shit all over my shorts and shirt, as well as my water bottle. I needed to get a new bottle.

They laughed, I bought a new bottle, and I went on with my day.

For some reason, I'm pretty sure I will be back on here again with another I shit my pants story.

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Make Inside Out Sports your next online tri shop! http://www.insideoutsports.com/

Brilliant.

Well-written...again!

My local running store would give me a free goddamn water bottle for a story like that.

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Eliot
blog thing - strava thing

hahaha....well it was the Nathan handheld bottle that is around $20. I guess we can call it the shit-tax?

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Make Inside Out Sports your next online tri shop! http://www.insideoutsports.com/

A crap in the bushes using leaves to wipe is a regular occurrence with me. Been spotted a few times, but I'm passed caring. However I did once take a crap in the the manicured gardens of some monument or other. Got away with it though.

Last week I crapped in a storm drain and as it had been a pretty stormy night, there were plenty of large leaves on the path to use. I used about 5 and all were good except for the one where I used the underside which contained thousands of prick-like hairs. That hurt.

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My race site: https://racesandplaces.wixsite.com/racesandplaces

You've not lived until you've shat yourself in running tights, with no where to duck for cover. Happened to me on an overpass of a 6 lane expressway, it hit me about half way across and there was no stopping. Although in retrospect it was strangely liberating.

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The secret of a long life is you try not to shorten it.
-Nobody

This thread deserves a resurrection.

Thank you. I haven't laughed so hard in a while.

There have been two days that I must not have timed my coffee appropriately. I made it to the bathroom in time but it was so painful (and my ass was convulsing) that I was literally considering letting it go on the side of the greeway I was running on. No PRs that day.

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https://connect.garmin.com/modern/profile/domingjm

Definite dark memory for me this....way back early in my running only days. I had just started run training properly and had lined up my first real target: sub 20mins 5k.

The big day arrived and I was nervous/excited. Race began and I was going well, up on pace and feeling good by halfway and really it could not have been going better. Sometime soon after halfway I was aware of some....rumbling....in my stomach but it was a PB/milestone attempt so ignored it. The rumbling started to get more serious, and a stealth fart did not solve the problem. I was getting cramps and starting to realise that any further attempts to stealth fart would get a full follow through so were off limits.

However I was deep into the last mile and still up on pace and I was NOT going to let this slip away....my running had deteriorated though as I was sort of running with clenched buttocks and pace was dropping. I still had plenty of time to play with so assumed I could manage the situation to the finish, but I was definitely looking forward to the post race loo more than the finish itself....

About 400m to go, and, well, the damn broke. Fortunately I had compression shorts on which did a very good 'containment' job but I could feel them filling up....utterly dreadful feeling running (yes I was still going for the PB!) while shitting yourself - but on the positive there was now no need to contain so my stride was lengthening again. Crowds were now lining the chute as I wafted past.

Despite it being my fastest every 5k by about 40 seconds I absolutely did not stop at the finish line, but kept running past - ignored the medal being offered - and went straight into the toilets. Clean up took ages, the shorts had to be sacrificed and I had to move cubicles as the first ran out of toilet paper.

Please note I had, however, remembered to stop my Garmin, and also glanced up at the time as I crossed - 19:38. Job done, but at a cost!

I visited Santa Barbara on vacation last year and my last morning (6:30am) run was memorable for there being plenty of public toilets, with none opening before 7:00am. Problem is your sphincter kind of relaxes on approach to forthcoming relief, so after about 4 episodes like this, the 5th toilet came too late. I 'mopped up' and slunk back into the hotel room and into the shower before the family was even awake.

---

My race site: https://racesandplaces.wixsite.com/racesandplaces

As a bush pilot it wasn't uncommon, due to crappy camp food, for people to suddenly have their guts start gurgling and have to land at a random strip (with a load of tourists onboard) and dart into the bush for relief, before coming back and continuing the flight, to the puzzlement of the paxs.

Whilst awaiting a delayed pickup, I had to dive into the bush by the side of the Zambezi, cut strips off my quick dry towel (fortunately I always had my go bag with survival kit onboard) and take a dump. The whole time I was expecting hippo to crash through the brush and end things - but that was the lesser of two evils when faced with shitting my pants, loading a plane full of paxs and then flying them forty minutes in the hot African sun in the aroma of pant shit.

Sometimes, when you've got to go, you've got to go.

Nice turn of phrase.

Congrats on the PB!

This thread is pure gold. I am firm believer that until this has happened to you you're not really in the club.

I live in a pretty rural area and I am an early morning runner so have frequently voluntarily availed myself of nature's toilet by digging a little hole and covering up. Recently, I started out a long run and within two miles I was receiving signals that all was not well. All of a sudden, the urge was upon me and I was unlucky to be on the only bit of the road that hemmed in by a five foot stone wall and thick woodland. I could either go on the road, or in my shorts - then the decision was made for me. I managed to clean up enough in the wood to finish the 16 mile run. When I arrived home I asked my wife to stay in the living room and leave me alone for 30 minutes to sort myself out. Thankfully I was able to laugh about it before the run had finished.

I've done two halfs and had issues in both... worst was vomiting and crapping my pants through the run. Came off the bike in position to win the race and it all went downhill at about mile three with some serious GI issues... beautiful beach front run and I'm hurling into a trash can. It just kept getting worse from that point on with stomach cramps. It was one of those its coming out of both ends off an on for the next 10 miles with a lot of walking mixed in.

At one point some spectator is telling me I don't have to finish, but I was bound and determined to finish one way or another... only time I've gone to the med tent at the finish line. I walked the mile or so back to our condo... showered, washed my kit out... went back to the race to pack up transition and heard my name called for winning my AG. What a day!

I went for a 8 mile run in my neighborhood near by one night. Well near the end of the run, I started feeling the grumbling down below but I thought I could hold it til I got my run completed. I was wrong. I was about a half mile from my house and decided to walk it in but I didn't have the spinchter strength to contain this powerful impending sh*tstorm. I tried physically plugging my assh*le with my finger so I wouldn't make a mess but I could feel myself losing this battle. I kept telling myself that I'm not a savage, I can't just sh*t in someones yard, this is a nice neighborhood! Well it was either my shorts or the neighbors tree that was going to take the brunt of my dietary sins. Not alot of places to take cover so I just ran in between two houses, dropped my pants and let the shit fly. I felt relief and shame at the same time knowing what I had just done and also realizing that I had nothing to wipe with. My goal was to get out of there asap and thats what I did. I try and unload before a run if I can but it doesn't always work out.

I’ve shat in bizarre places on runs ranging from 4 to 20 miles hundreds of times. (I always carry TP or a couple of paper towels on a run.) Maybe half of them were pre-dawn, so no problem at all. Trickier when it’s light out in an urban area.

But the one that stays with me doesn’t involve running. San Antonio, 1986 or 1987. 2:00 in the afternoon maybe. Driving in a very upscale neighborhood (can't recall why) I had to go and it was a 10 on the urgency scale. I threw the transmission on that old Buick into Park, jumped out and took an enormous dump on the manicured front lawn of a $500,000 or $1M mansion, right by the mailbox. No time for wiping. I was back in my car so fast that even if the guy had been looking out his picture window, I don’t think he’d have been able to get outside before I hauled ass.

That is hilarious!! And ballsy!

I’ve shit myself on several occasions. I’ve never had the idea of plugging my ass with my finger.

I actually have 2 stories on this topic I was a little embarrassed to share the second one but my wife thought it might be helpful for me to share this with the triathlon community so here goes...


I was training for a half Ironman in Muncie, Indiana and went out for a swim in a lake at a park near my house. I hadn't been feeling great but wanted to get in a quick hour as I hadn't been able to swim in about a week.


The lake is long and wide and I had it to myself that morning. My swim started off uneventful, although I still had that gnawing in my gut.


I got 20 minutes in, and I'd gotten about as far from shore in any direction as I could... and then it happened.


There was really no warning. The uncomfortable feeling in my gut turned into something I can only describe as an explosion and my intestines emptied into my wetsuit.


(Afterwards, it occured to me that my wetsuit should have helped me, at least a little bit, in holding back what was erupting from my butthole but the fact that the suit was so tight almost seemed to help to push my shame out more forcefully)


And there was nothing I could do.


I was in 15 feet of water and locked in my wetsuit as it continued to pour out of me.


Part of me was in a panic but part of me - and I'm a little ashamed of this - but part of me actually enjoyed and appreciated the warmth that was starting to spread over me. It was primal.


Now, the lake is in a park and a few people had pulled into the parking lot since I had started my swim. There was even another swimmer stretching on shore. I knew I had to come up with a plan on how to get back to my car and strip out of my wetsuit without anyone seeing me, as I could feel that my feces had started leaking out around my feet.


I started swimming to the most remote part of the lake, but still on the same side as the parking lot. My plan was to strip out of my wetsuit, rinse and walk back to my car along shore.


Now I don't wear anything under my wetsuit when I train, so the shit that was trapped in my wetsuit was starting to feel gritty and chafe me. Especially my ballsack and ass crack.


But I swam on.


I reached shore and climbed out, out of sight of what I thought was everyone. I started to strip, and that's when I smelled it. And to make matters even worse, as I pulled off the rubber suit I got some in my mouth.



And then I vomited. And I just kept puking.. the smell... the taste... the feel of my whole body covered in my foul waste was too much. I was on my knees, naked, covered in my own wet diarrhea, vomiting.


Then I looked up.


An older couple, probably in their late 70s, had apparently walked along the shore and stopped about 30 feet from me, both staring at me, mouths agape. She started to reach for what I can only assume was pepper spray but her husband grabbed her hand and pulled her back the way they had come.


I quickly jumped back in the lake, rinsed, pulled my wetsuit on to my waist and ran through the woods that would get me back to the parking lot. The going was slow because I didn't have shoes on and by the time I got near the parking lot, I stood along the treeline and watched as the elderly couple corralled a park ranger and animatedly pointed back down the way they had come.


The ranger got on his radio and started down the shore and as soon as he disappeared behind the trees I ran through the parking lot, ducking behind cars until I reached the safety of my Kia.


I cracked the door, slid in, started the ignition and sped away to my house as fast as I could.


When I finally got home I stripped off my wetsuit, put it in a bucket outside and went in to check my balls.



Has this ever happened to anyone else?


Ohhhhh that’s a good one. Thanks for making me relive my shame everyone!

I laughed so hard at this that I woke the wife up who was asleep on the couch.

I've done it too.

One time I was in southern Greece and had too much fresh fish and home made "wine" for dinner. Ran the next morning and it was a good thing that I was close to an unmanned banana field. Banana leaves are pretty good for wiping.

A few other times I was not that lucky and came back to the car without socks.

---

Next races on the schedule: none at the moment

You know I never read this thread when it first stated, but stories like these make me look forward to seeing this thread pop up to the top of the list.

Plugging your ass with your finger...That is pure gold! I laughed so hard I figured I could skip my core workout tonight. My abs are killing me.

Hilarious story. I have to ask though: Do you change into your wetsuit at the house (with nothing under it), then drive in your car to the lake? How do you normally get back without getting your car wet and dirty? Towel off the wetsuit? Sounds uncomfortable.

For some reason it reminds of Seinfeld when Kramer is telling the story about how he got mud on the pants he was on the way to return because he was wearing them on the way to the store. Jerry questions how how was going to get home with no pants.

I had a funny one when taking my 2 year old daughter for a walk once. We were about half way around the loop in our village, just next to some houses with nice lawns in front. She then said she needed a wee and so we did the standard parent wee hold where you drop their pants, lean forward a bit and hold them out to have a quick wee and give them a shake, pull them up and off you go. A standard move that usually takes 30 seconds and leaves no trace. This time though after about 5 seconds of watering sounds she suddenly tenses slightly and i hear this tiny "Gnnnnnnnnaahhhhh" sound. I look down and she's produced a spectacular 5 inch long perfectly formed turd, right on someone's front lawn.. We got out of there sharpish with me sniggering all the way home wondering what dog owner would get the blame for that, probably a Great Dane owner.

This wasn’t a training shit as I was supposed to be in “recovery” mode.

I asked my buddy for advice on where to travel with my new lady friend – somewhere that was a bit off the grid, tropical, with access to swimming and hiking. He suggested a place called Mato Palo in Costa Rica, which is nestled on the Osa Peninsula.

After a long day of traveling we arrived at our “jungle bungalow” where we were greeted very warmly by staff. We were told that there was some sort of welcome picnic or dinner that we were welcome to attend. I was starving.

There was an impressive spread all under surveillance by various jungle creatures like Howler monkeys, Scarlet Macaws, Iguanas, and what not. I dove in hard. My girlfriend at the time had some papaya, mango, a little salad, some coconut water, etc. She was all into yoga and raw foods and Namaste. I ate everything in sight, including some chicken and something only a Costa Rican would serve to make someone from the States feel a little more comfortable if homesick – potato salad. It was all delicious and by the end of this gluttonous foray into a blended smorgasbord of fresh fruit and Mayonnaise-based salads, I felt simply spectacular.

We took an amazing walk, took a dip in the beautiful ocean, sat by a fire listening to the nocturnal bugs and what not serenade us until we were ready to retire to our romantic bungalow. I was in heaven.

Fast forward a couple hours. After drifting off to sleep I abruptly awake in the middle of the night with some stomach rumbling. I spring up and it is pitch black and loud with jungle life. I'm sweating and tachycardic. My stomach doesn’t feel right at all. My beautiful girlfriend is next to me sound asleep probably dreaming of all the papaya and mango she is going to eat for breakfast. The rumbling intensifies and I cannot tell if I have to shit, vomit, or both. My fear is palpable and for many reasons. I pray to all Gods who will listen to just let this entire thing pass. I am pretty sure that my prayers will fall on deaf ears.

I start the inner conversation. You know, the one where your body and your amygdala try to converse logically about how long you can hold it in, whether you can make it to the bathroom, etc. I start to sweat more. A lot. I do the mental math and know that I could probably make it to the shared bathroom that is located down the path (in the jungle) about 50 yards or so. But that confidence is deflated as I remember hearing from the staff that they could not promise safety while walking around at night. Things like poisonous snakes (of which Costa Rica at the time has/had lots of), black panthers, scorpions, dart frogs, and whatever the hell else there is in this Joseph Conrad Heart of Darkness god forsaken place. I'm from the city. My sphincter is screaming at me “Run your punk ass to the toilet or I’ll fucking ruin you and your reputation,” while my brain is yelling “but you’ll probably get bitten by a coral snake or mauled by a black panther, which would make your mother so sad and you would suffer while you die in the darkness of the jungle.” I was in a dilemma.

The minutes felt like hours. I continued to have waves of nausea and pangs of gas pains. Any fart that happened was accompanied by shear panic that I would shit on my girlfriend. Eventually, the darkness every-so-slightly faded. I could now look out of our open aired bungalow, through the mosquito netting, and see about halfway down the path that would lead me to liberation of this foulness. I began to try to convince myself that it was time and after a disgusting burp, I finally mustered up enough confidence to make a run for it. I silently crept out of the bungalow - clenching my ass cheeks so hard that I would have made a diamond out of coal.

As soon as I started down the path things went from horrible to “oh-my-god-what-did-i-do-to-deserve-this?” I was going to vomit and I would not be able to make it to the bathroom. With bungalows all along the path, I didn’t want to vomit on the path or wake someone so I tried to quicken my pace, which made my rectum spasm and my sphincter lament in despair.

When a person dies there are 5 stages of death. I think shitting yourself results in a similar staging system. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I sped through denial during what felt like several hours ago. I loathed myself for eating that fucking potato salad and then bargained with whatever spiritual force that occupies Mato Palo to please just let me make it to the bathroom. But when that first slippage of stool escaped my butt I knew that I wasn't going to make it. I wallowed in depression as I went incontinent all over tropical paradise. I began to run at this point. As best as I could. Shitting everywhere. All over the footpath. Ruining nature and everyone’s tropical oasis.

I stopped for a split second to remind myself which direction the bathroom was and that is when I smelled it, when I saw what I just did to myself. My nausea abruptly intensified to an all-out vomit. The act of vomiting engaged by abdominal muscles in ways that led to my bowels being squeezed and availing themselves of their exit. This all happened just a mere 10 yards from a toilet. It was so forceful that my simultaneous poop-vomit fiasco propelled me almost into the bushes.Thoroughly disgusted and depressed with myself, I walked the rest of the way to the bathroom where I spent the next hour or so releasing my ill humors down the drain.

During that time, I contemplated whether I could manage to act like this never happened. I first had to accept that I just did that. I convinced myself that I would cut through the jungle toward the beach and jump in the ocean to fully clean myself off. I couldn’t let my girlfriend know just how pathetic of a person I really was. I started to hear other humans up and about. A man came in and took a piss then left. I waited until the voices faded and then I left my stall. I peeked my head out and didn’t see anyone and walked as fast as I could toward the ocean – covered in my disappointment.

When I got to the ocean and waded in, dizzy and disgusted, I ultimately managed to convince myself that I was in the clear. I took my shorts off, turned them inside out, washed them like I was on the show “Survivor” and then tried to clean myself as best as possible. Walking back to my bungalow, I imagined returning to my girlfriend sleeping, me freshly wet from an amazing Ocean swim wet, where I’d sit and convince her that I got up early - that this shit show never happened. But when I got near the bungalow, I saw that she was up already. She was on the path that I had ruined and was heading toward the bathroom herself. I then saw her stop in her tracks and turn around quickly to walk back to the bungalow. When she saw me near, I did my best to do the “Hey! You are finally up.The ocean is so beautiful this morning.You have to go in,” but she wasn’t really having it. She said “Someone shit all over this place and it is disgusting. It's literally everywhere. How fucking rude.”

There is something that most people know about me who know me well. I am a terrible liar. Still feeling squeamish and stressed from my self-inflicted trauma, I said “I have to tell you something. Promise not to tell?” I was now a 7-year-old boy, evidently. She looked at me and quickly put the story together. With a look of thorough disappointment and embarrassment she said “Oh my god, it was you." I looked at her with a strong sense of humiliation and said “the potato salad.”

I went back to our bungalow and lay down for a long time while she “went on a walk” and got some breakfast. Things were really never the same between us. Whatever she thought about me when she went to sleep that night was now gone. I was now the guy that took her to a tropical dreamland to then have her spend her first morning with a man who went incontinent all over. While we eventually managed to laugh about it and have a good time for the rest of our trip, I'm sure the grounds keepers surely didn’t. Still to this day, I sometimes wonder if the good people that work there still talk about what this mystery man managed to do when something bad happens there. Something like “yeah, this is ridiculous, but it isn’t as bad as the time that person emptied themselves all over the place and we had to hose it all down.”

Moral of the story. Eat locally. And jungles don't make mayo.

You, sir, are an artist! I am sitting in my office with both hands over my mouth laughing my ass off!

I laughed so hard I almost shit my pants at work!

So, do you now always wear a Speedo or jammer under your wettie??? That always seemed like a good idea to me and i've never thought of driving to an OWS in my wettie. Driving in a wetsuit, that just seems bit off to me, unless you have to due to an emergency.

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"Anyone can be who they want to be IF they have the HUNGER and the DRIVE."

I'll let her tell it

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

I usually just put my wetsuit on behind my car door next to the woods so I have some privacy.

Guernsey is a small holiday Island, closer to France than England. In world war 2 it was occupied by German forces who built defensive concrete bunkers housing machine guns, all around the coast. They are revered monuments now, grim reminders of the folly of war.


But one is grimmer than all the others.


I did the Guernsey marathon. High summer. Midday Sun. Coast road. Tourists everywhere. Happy families, kids, ice-creams.

I ate shellfish the night before, but all was going well until about mile 18. That was when the warning tremors started. I looked in vain for a toilet. My run slowed to a buttock-clenched limp. Then BOOM - a sudden Hiroshima of the large bowel, I could resist no longer. I had to make a split-second choice. There was a bunker just to my left. There was nowhere else to go. I dived through the 3 x 1 foot aperture into the airless, cool, dark concrete chamber- the architectural embodiment of man's inhumanity to man- and let rip.


BOOM. Had the Germans discovered the power of my S-bomb in 1945, World War 2 might have had a different outcome.

Moules mariner like they never served at La Belle Paris, splattered on the walls, the floor, even the concrete ceiling. The relief was incredible. As I wiped my undercarriage with some dried kelp, I stared whistling the Dambusters Theme.


And as my eyes acclimatised to the musky darkness, I became aware that I was not alone in the bunker.


I have never been back to Guernsey.

10/10

I almost fell out of my chair at work and had to fight serious out loud laughter a few times... good read as I was wrapping up my day at the office.

I find this far stranger than shitting outside or in one's pants. Am I missing something or do I just hang out with too many trail runners? Isn't squatting behind a bush, like, a thing?

Order of preference:
1) shit outside (aka squat behind a bush etc)
2) play the door knocking game
3) shit pants

If you're in some of the built up areas near where I lived when that story took place, there aren't any decent bushes to just go behind. You'd be running a huge risk of being spotted by families or something.

Sometimes You Have To Shit In A Dunkin' Donuts

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

But do you now wear a Speedo or jammer or bike shorts under your wettie???

---

"Anyone can be who they want to be IF they have the HUNGER and the DRIVE."

This story is not as dramatic as others, but it’s still pretty good…

100th running of the Boston marathon. There are more entrants than usual. We’re all on school buses riding out to the start line at Hopkinton and there is a delay – it’s taking a long time to unload all of the buses. So we’re in this long line of buses, stop and go traffic, in a wooded area, hydrating before the race, and everyone really needs to pee. Finally, one guy gets off the bus and pees in the woods, then a few others; soon all the guys have peed in the woods. And it’s spring with no leaves on the trees so there is no privacy; everyone in the buses can see others peeing in the woods. Then there was one brave woman who got off the bus to pee, then a few others; soon all the women were peeing in the woods.

Quite a sight to see busloads (hundreds) of runners peeing in the woods.

I was on a competitive mixed team doing the Hood to Coast relay race in 1997. One of my legs was about a 10k in the early morning about 3am or so. Well that kind of messes up my body clock and I really had to go, but I didn't want to stop due to the team race...and besides it was so dark I didn't know where I could stop anyway. Well, it happened and it just came out with about a mile to go.

Fortunately we have time to get to the next runner and I jumped in a porta potty and changed my clothes. Unfortunately the baby wipes didn't do a very good job of hiding the smell...at least to me. I always wondered what the other 6 people in the van thought as I didn't tell them what happened. It wasn't till we got near a gas station that I was able to do a thorough clean up.

I am printing this and next time I am at a party of close friends, I am going to read this word for word.

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Use this link to save $5 off your USAT membership renewal:
https://membership.usatriathlon.org/...A2-BAD7-6137B629D9B7

Liquid diet for the day before a key race? Seems to be this guys answer...

http://www.samiinkinen.com/...205/sami-liquid-diet

I should have known better than to check on this thread during a work meeting.

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http://mediocremultisport.blogspot.com

No, I used to but im already really claustrophobic in the wetsuit as it is and I figured losing control of my bowels into the suit was a one off....So I still go commando.

Was on a trail run with my good friend who is from the East Coast (we were running in the SF Bay Area).

He pulled off to do an emergency crap. And then used some leaves to wipe.
Apparently he then must have wept some sweat off his face as well.

The leaves were poison oak.

Yep, he had to be hospitalized. Can you imagine?

But in a race, would you not wear your kit under the wettie??? Seems like it would apropos to "train as you race"???

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"Anyone can be who they want to be IF they have the HUNGER and the DRIVE."

Well, 3) is gonna happen at some point (because things happen suddenly sometimes).

But, 2)???????

I can’t see how this could ever be better than 1) or 3).

Safety?
Do gun nuts and dogs react positively to a strangers request to shit in their house!!

Legality?
Has no-one ever got arrested or harassed by police for asking to shit in a strangers house?

Politeness?
Is asking to take a shit in a strangers house, more polite than doing a ninja shit (that will get blamed on a neighbors dog)?

Embarrassment?
Is it less embarrassing, to ask a stranger to take a shit in their house, than doing a ninja shit and running off?

Convenience?
Not even worth discussing!

I concede that some urban (and suburban) areas don’t offer good cover.
But these seem to be precisely the places, where people are least likely to be sympathetic to a request to shit in their house.

+1000, it has never even occurred to me to go up to someone's door and ask to use the BR. :)

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"Anyone can be who they want to be IF they have the HUNGER and the DRIVE."

Best thing I've ever read! Thanks. I have tears in my eyes.

It takes the edge off shitting yourself. If and when it happens. Blessed.

On top of that, I would be likely bursting by that point and the wait (answer the door, introduction, request, decision) would prove fatal.

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My race site: https://racesandplaces.wixsite.com/racesandplaces

As they told us when I was in Boy Scouts many decades ago: "Leaves of 3, don't wipe with me"

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"I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 10, and I don't know why!"

Unfortunately, he wasn't a Boy Scout!

Nobody is going to shoot you or have you arrested for asking to use a bathroom. I can't imagine any circumstance where asking to use a toilet would be worse than shitting yourself and having to run home like that. I'd much rather be impolite, and isn't it far more embarrassing to be seen with shit leaking out of your shorts as you waddle home?

It occurs to me that I'd be more likely to find myself in an "Emergency Exit" situation in Barnes & Noble than on a run/ride

https://en.wikipedia.org/...riko_Aoki_phenomenon

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

Ya, you'd have sh*t running out of your shoes and then you're going to track that sh*t into the person's house??? I don't think so. :)

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"Anyone can be who they want to be IF they have the HUNGER and the DRIVE."

That is hilarious!

Sh**t, i've had to take an "emergency crap" (EC) in all kinds of places: bookstores, hardware stores, etc. Every 3 months or so, i have to get out of the pool mid-swim or off the bike mid-ride, and at least 1/month i pull into the bushes on the run. Further, virtually 365 days/yr i have at least one EC where i have to stop what i'm doing and hit the closest BR. Hell, this evening i was just taking my dogs for a brief, 1-mi walk/run at the park, and it was all i could to hang on until we made it back to the BR, and i was simply walking, they were the only runners this evening. :)

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"Anyone can be who they want to be IF they have the HUNGER and the DRIVE."

Kinda like a cross between Amazon & Starbucks

---

"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

The great thing about a real bricks-and-mortar bookstore is that you can just drop by and read a book or two any time from 0900 to 2200. They have some padded comfy chairs and some wooden chairs in the bookstore, plus tables and chairs in the cafe', so i can always get a seat somewhere. I've read numerous books in the store but then did not buy them b/c i didn't care for them that much. OTOH, i did buy 17 books at my local B&N last year so i am helping to keep them in business. i generally stop by my B&N about 3 days/wk for 1-1.5 hr or so.

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"Anyone can be who they want to be IF they have the HUNGER and the DRIVE."

I was eating some Kashi cereals a few years ago and I couldn't get through a run without stopping in a park bathroom or a Wendy's that just happened to be at the point where something "had to happen"...

I stopped with the Kashi and can get through my runs no problem now.

Have you considered joining a library? They're free there too [unless you forget to return them, that is]

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

The bookstore is a more attractive venue for sitting and reading, better selection, better hours, better looking clientèle/staff, plus you can eat and drink while you read. It's just a nice place to go to get out of the house, and it requires no effort unlike the gym. Certainly, i go to the library on occasion but generally only for old books that are out of print. I have donated around 400 or so older books from my parents' library, and/or from my "earlier years", to our central county library.

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"Anyone can be who they want to be IF they have the HUNGER and the DRIVE."

Gotcha

---

"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

Heard a good euphemism on the Mountain Bike Radio podcast, discussing the 10PM start time of the Vapor Trail 125 MTB race

"Generally, these things start at 6 or 7 in the morning; so you wake up, you have enough coffee that you can do some Stage One Weight Reduction. you might eat a bagel or oatmeal, and then you go race"

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

This thread makes me feel so much less alone in the universe. Needing to poop and having almost no where to do it is a daily occurrence. I drop 2-4 loafs throughout the morning so sometimes I think i'm totally clear and begin my run into suburbia only to realize I'm one loaf shy of an empty nest. I've had to drop my drawers far more times in places that aren't bathrooms than I care to admit.

I think in the past decade I've probably either pooped or half pooped myself like...2-3x.

Outside of the fact that it makes for a miserable run that day, there's no shame in it happening. Happens to all who run enough.

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A more mixed metaphor, I've never read

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

Has nobody heard of these things? A single is so small I can carry it on any run I do; you can stuff it anywhere.

Step 1: Find a spot to "do your business." Woods, alley, neighbors front lawn.
Step 2a: Do your business.
Step 2b: While completing Step 2a, open packet near one end. Do not rip completely off.
Step 3: Clean self.
Step 4: Stuff used Wet One back into packet.
Step 5: Continue run completely comfortable.
Step 6: Dispose of used packet at next opportunity.
Step 7: Ruminate on why you ever used a shirt/sock/headband/Poison Oak/etc.

That's a nice list, but the problem for most of us is step one, finding a spot. I've lived in places where finding a place to drop the browns off is never an issue, but where I currently excited it's a surburbia wasteland. No forest, no parks with bathrooms, no where where I can tuck behind without being exposed to another vantage point, etc. It's brutal.

Once I find a place to go, I don't need a damn wet wipe, that's what grass, leaves, or the 50 grit sand paper I run with is for...

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I thought the "neighbors front lawn" made it evident I know this sometimes happens in a public place...

My point is you are discussing wet wipes as if that was the important issue. Wiping is the absolute least of my concern. I could have all the wet wipes in the world but without a place to poop, I could not careless about wet wipes. Even with a place to poop, just use leaves or the legendary Lamb's Ear. Or if it's winter, snow, while cold, makes for a nice clean wipe.

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The Home of Advanced Running
Advanced Running Instagram Page
My narcisstic training log

Keep an eye out for ongoing construction projects [roadwork, houses, etc.] and use their porta pottys

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

I'm waiting for the "Weirdest Thing ..." and "Shit my Pants" thread crossover

"We were on our usual Saturday Morning club ride, when we saw someone taking a shit on someone's lawn"

"One Saturday morning, I had to pull over to take a dump, and all of a sudden, mid-plop, this club ride rolled past me"

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

I pooped at the 11 mile point of an 18 mile run last Saturday. Went into a woods, leaned my back against a tree and let it happen. I’ve been thinking about it all week, sitting in conference rooms, talking about business stuff. I’ve been daydreaming about that poop. It was the most liberating experience of my life. Hope it happens again tomorrow.

I'm waiting for OWS swimmers to add to this by relating their experiences in training or a race. Of course, there's also the possibility of someone relating their experience of swimming through that. "I didn't know there were octopi in freshwater lakes, in Oklahoma..."

I remember that 140triwife told me that she did it once. She's definitely a BOP swimmer, so she took advantage of people in the training group swim knowing that and not being surprised that she dropped of the back. I was way ahead on the out-and-back swim that I didn't know until later, when she told me. I know that it's a big lake, but our course goes close to shore for the entire out-and-back route, so it's possible that someone swam through it at some point.

Pro: you can totally conceal the area below your waist underwater. You're also lots cleaner than doing it on land.

Con: without a current, there's little, uh, water movement.

I just spent a couple of weeks working at a large Resort hotel - frequented by Europeans, so lots of morning runners.

There is a shower block at one stage - showers are closest to the path, toilets are somewhat hidden away from the path.

Couple of times in the week, there was talk of freshly laid turds in the showers, early in the morning.

Being a known morning runner, I was on the suspect list, but definitely not me as my poop-cycle/timing was good that week. You generally know when you've done enough pre-run and you know when things didn't quite happen and you're likely to hit trouble.

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My race site: https://racesandplaces.wixsite.com/racesandplaces

https://www.theinertia.com/...rt-of-the-aqua-dump/

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

OMG, I nearly got a new hernia from laughing!

Could be worse ... you could be at 14,000 feet [or more], and have to find yourself a baggie and a popper-scooper

https://www.theguardian.com/...s-denali-poop-alaska

https://parkplanning.nps.gov/...Epdf&sfid=310666

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

Well I never thought I'd see the day, but last night was my first experience with this. I just got off antibiotics and haven't quite been, myself, shall we say. I had a 20 mile run last night and on mile 18 there was a knock knock knock on the back door and I knew there was no making it through. I was on trails and hadn't seen anyone so I hid behind a tree. Midway through I hear twigs cracking and turn and make eye contact with a horrified and very attractive gal. I don't think she will ever unsee that event. Oh well. I always take a ziplock bag with a few wet wipes on my long runs just in case and I was very thankful for those.

Looks like you maybe shouldn't make a regular habit of doing it where you work...

http://www.nj.com/...eved_himself_un.html

Your username just got more awesome.

I forgot to plant a water bottle on a 30 k run. Was dying for a drink. Saw a church and decided to look for a garden hose or something. There were tomato bushes - so I sucked on juice of 2 tomatoes. Not proud..

Slowtwitch, where no one drafts and everyone has bowel problems.

20 years of managing ulcerative colitis... I'm past any form of pride in this area.

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Some are born to move the world to live their fantasies...

https://triomultisport.com/
http://www.mjolnircycles.com/

I've left a lot of crap in the woods, but one time I ran across a frozen pond (skating rink) and made it to the washroom. Good thing I brought my microspikes!

He doesn't work in the Holmdel school district at whose HS track he did his business; the article isn't clear about that. He's the superintendent in another district, and lives in a town next to Holmdel.

I'm in the Holmdel school district; daughter attends Holmdel HS.

Guy has issues.

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"Go yell at an M&M"

Do they lock up the port-a-johns at the track, too?

What's your connection to this?

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"Go yell at an M&M"

I have to bring this post back to the top...because I did something I am not proud of.

Preface: Ok. So lets start this out by saying I do not eat dairy. Haven't for a good long time. I was also getting over a cold. So I was not feeling too well and a lady friend (just a friend) brought me a large chocolate shake from McDonalds. I inhaled it because it was delicious and since I dont eat sweet nor do I eat dairy - this was a really bad idea but it was magic.
So this was Monday early evening. I decided that it would be a splendid idea to get a run in because i was feeling better and my buddy said there was this super attractive girl he was friends with that wanted to meet me and she just moved into town. Naturally I suddenly felt 100% and was ready to go out for a fun evening. Keep in mind I also rarely drink. Basically picture the movie "perfect storm" and my stomach is the little boat feeling awesome with tons of fish in it and then life is the storm and it decides to wreck my world and end the lives of everyone on board.

Well. Here is the play by play. Went for a run around 8 o'clock. Had rested a while so legs felt great. Sugar high was happening. Clipped it way faster than I should have. At the end of the run I got that "Oh no my stomach is twirling around like a drunk ribbon dancer at the 96 Olympics" feeling. finished run. stomach felt slightly better. kept doing off and on gymnastics with itself. Decided to eat a few tums and grab a few bites of a left over chicken salad sandwhich (in hindsight - i made the worst decisions ever regarding my stomach). Ok I am good to go.

I pick my buddy up. Go to her place to grab her. Stomach hurts off and on still. It is a nice expensive place. I notice the bathroom is spotless. Absolutely spotless. We uber to a nice bar/restaurant so I'm wearing dress pants, dress shoes, the whole get up. I am going to fake it until I make it because I am normally a homeless hobo. She doesn't know that. I am smart. Definitely a genius.

I start drinking. A bit too much. mix of everything. wine. whiskey. beer. My inner self is telling me this is awesome. My stomach is telling me otherwise. It starts to feel better somehow though. I think I am in the clear. I keep drinking. Suddenly - I am drunk. What happened? Who cares. Everyone is drunk. Life is a party.

We uber back to her place. My buddy and her are actually definitely not "just friends". I am going to leave. This is lame. She wants me to stay. I am confused and think I am in a swinger movie. I really need to go to home.

Suddenly my stomach starts to REALLY hate life. Think volcano boiling magma pit. I go to use the restroom thinking maybe I am going to take a pee and fart and it is just gas. There is a mirror behind the toilet. I am pretty. look at my jaw line. I start to pee. I am going to let out a little fart. I cant trust them. Test the water. Little one out and I am good to go. So I decide to let it rip. Full monty. No more time to waste. I let it go....

OH NO! In the mirror there is terror in my eyes. I HAVE JUST MADE A HUGE MISTAKE. I feel it on my leg. I immediately drop the pants. sit down. All hell breaks loose. Dear God have mercy on my soul. I am painting the toilet bowl a plethora of colors. The smell. The smell is so bad. I am tearing up. Sweating almost. I cant reach the switch to turn the bathroom fan on. I am dying. basking in my own stench. I start to laugh because this Disney movie has turned into a horror film. It keeps coming. I don't have this much room in my body for what is coming out. minutes seem like hours. I am sweating like a pig surrounded by a pack of lions. wave after wave. until it finally ends. Ok. I need to just jump in the shower. I can't even wipe this shitstorm up. I cant do that. it would be weird and they would know. This is a small apartment so the smell will waft out soon. I need to go home. I look at what I had just done. Splashes all over the toilet seat, back of the toilet got painted, it looks like a f*cked up picasso painting from hell. I try my best to wipe. It is fruitless. I already have shi* in my pants from my fart. i say "f*ck it". I am too far in to care now. I just pull the work pants up. WAIT. They are travel work pants. Stain free and dont absord water. YES. Try my best to tidy up. That smell though. No air freshner. Dear God. I go to flush. It is not one of those airplane toilets with super sucking qualities. It is not even one of those "I am wasting water on every flush" toilets. It isnt even one of those "the water pressure might be low" toilets. it is one of those trickle i can blow water through a straw harder than this toilet flushes and takes forever to fill back up. I have filled this toilet with mud water, soup, unidentifiable chunks of solid particles and the toilet is just twirling it all around and taking out a little at a time. this cannot be happening. I look up into the mirror. My face is one of shame and disbelief. I flush 5 or 6 times with delays in between to try and get this all out. Ok wait - they can hear this. This is now suspicious. They definitely suspect something. Hopefully they are getting it on and I am of no concern. Maybe they forgot about me. yes they probably forgot about me. I want to be forgotten. I want to forget. I will never un-see what has just happened in this white tiled marble counter beautiful sanctuary that once was. I have desecrated a beautiful place of reflection. I hate myself.

I walk out. She is in her room doing something. I look at my buddy. he looks at me. I just walk out the front door. I did not call an uber. No time. I see my truck. it is right out front. i get in. Sit down. I can feel my wet ass in my wet pants and the smell is still in full force. I am sitting in my own shit. Oh know she might find me! I text my buddy. Told him i grabbed an uber home and he needs to find his own ride.

i am now sitting in my truck. In the wee hours of the morning. In shit pants. alone. sweating. I am in a hotbox of my own odor and shame. I destroyed that poor girls bathroom. I hit it and I ran. This is what my life has come to. 29 years and this is where I am at. I suddenly feel super ashamed. I decide to go home. i can't call an uber. I am covered in shit. I decide to walk. It is about 5 miles. I dont care. I will walk my shame ridden shit covered body home and contemplate my existence.

the next day i get a text from my buddy: "Bro - I don't think you are ever allowed over here again. You destroyed her bathroom. She is not happy. I am dying laughing though. That is funny. Well done".

She has not talked to me since and everytime I see her. she just gives me this look. A look that portrays "you are not even a man".



So it was the delayed build up run shits gone horribly wrong. I am not proud of this but deep inside, I do get a good laugh.

Thank you.

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Use this link to save $5 off your USAT membership renewal:
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If she ever has a kid with your friend, look at her when the kid has a dirty diaper and say, "I prepped you for this moment"

A dirty diaper and what i did to that beautiful well decorated classy room of reflection and comfort - are like comparing a small spill of applesauce to a cement mixer with holes in it that has gone rogue.

How often do you see her? Maybe, you should give her a gift card to Bed Bath & Beyond, or Lowes, or something? A handful of coupons for Febreeze?

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

oh I should thank her for more than that. Imagine this scenario. We start getting all into it. Her comfy nice white comforter bed with 1000 thread count sheets. Smells of lavender and pheromones drifting through the air. When suddenly - out of nowhere - disaster strikes.

Glass half full mentality haha she may have sacrificed her bathroom but it was fate that led me there.

You have an amazing way with words, I must say

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

Lol, the real-life Reuben Feffer?!...:D

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ddGwvveSXxM



P.S. I started reading, then closed the thread, then came back and read the responses and had to read it and was laughing out loud with other people around me wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

To be honest, when I got to this part ...


Combined with the thread title, I KNEW it wasn't going to end well ... and I was NOT disappointed

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"What's your claim?" - Ben Gravy
"Your best work is the work you're excited about" - Rick Rubin

this..exactly this

Solid work, man. Well, not completely solid.............

-E

Well done sir.

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"You can never win or lose if you don't run the race." - Richard Butler

My Hubs is asleep beside me as I was reading this and I was trying not to wake him up from laughing my ass off. So funny and well written. Thanks for the hilarious read!

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No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up
Laura

That sort of answers my question: do women find scatalogical humor as funny as men do. Because I'm confident that men will laugh at farts and fart jokes for their whole lives as if they were first-graders.

My own wife has poop stories from her runs as well, but I don't think she finds those as funny in the retelling as I have about my own. She does admit that she's had emergencies on the run. One example: we took our toddler to a playground next to the Arkansas River in Tulsa. I wanted to show the toddler the men who were fishing, but my Mrs said "don't walk down there. That's where I had my emergency." She didn't think it was funny at all in the retelling. I thought it was hilarious.

OMG! This is the kind of stuff that gets me through long trainer rides, except that I was trying to climb while laughing uncontrollably. Shoulda had a warning to read only on descents!

That was awesome!

Long time lurker, finally created a login. Love this thread.

I didn't see many posts about having to shit in a farm field. Was on a run a few years ago, not super long (7-8 miles I think.) Was in up north Wisconsin for a working weekend at a friend's farm house. We had been up the night before drinking beer and telling stories. The next morning I got up early, ate breakfast, had coffee, got hydrated and then headed out.

At about mile 4 I felt the twinge of a poo cramp coming on. Thought fleetingly that I maybe shouldn't have had four or five beers less than 12 hours ago, but pressed on.

At mile 5 it became obvious that I wasn't going to make it back. I'm running along a pretty rural road, in between farm fields, with farm houses maybe every half mile. The people up there don't see a lot of runners (based on the gaping stares I got from trucks and Amish buggies as they passed me) so I knew stopping at a house wouldn't do.

Finally I had to act. Got off the road, paused my Garmin, found some bushes, made sure my iPod didn't dangle down as I dropped my shorts, then finally found sweet relief. As I was squatting there in some taller weeds, a few cows in the field found me quite interesting. They were poking their noses through the wire fencing and staring at me sideways with their big glassy eyes. It was pretty surreal.

I had to rip off my base layer and use it to clean up. Thank god I wasn't wearing lined shorts Left them in the weeds, stood up slowly to make sure nobody was driving by, then ran back out onto the road. The last two miles felt fantastic!

Anyway, on long runs I now carry some disposable wipes in a baggy. Haven't needed them yet.

Oh my God, I was laughing like a maniac at the stories in this thread (especially BryanD's and Twinkie's). My workmates must think I'm crazy now.

Gladly I've never shit myself while running, although I had my fair share of nightmarish close calls. The worst of all happened fairly recently. I went out for a light 5k jog in the late morning in my 'hood and as I approached 3k, I heard the dreaded "gut gargling". At first, I wrote it off as gas, while I marrily and loudly farted, to my own amusement, up to 4K.

Then my problems started.
As I approached 4,5k, the pain started to become mind numbing and the smiles and laughs brought about by the farts were swapped by a facial expression of suffering and terror. I tried the Constipation Trifecta (clenched buttcheeks, ramped up speed and a prayer to your respective higher being), to no avail. Since I could see my house from afar, I sped up, but felt that the "lips holding the cigar" were about to let it go. This last stretch passed through a busy university campus, so I doubled down on my mental effort and managed to get home before tragedy struck.

The deuce was so big that my wife and I affectionally started dubbing these kinds of incidents as "releasing the Cloverfield" from that moment on.

The only time I effectively shat my pants while training was when I was a junior roughly a decade ago. I arrived home from a long and difficult bike hill session, and was feeling super duper well, when my mother looked at me and said:

"My son, you look so pale, what happened?"

As if her words were a magic spell, I felt a sudden urge to puke and as I did it, the ab cramps where so strong that I shat myself in the process. In the middle of the damn kitchen. I genuinely felt much more sad than ashamed at that occasion.

Well ladies and gentleman of Slowtwitch - It is time to bring this thread back to the top. I had thought I figured out my nutrition but clearly....I have not. This is also going to probably be a bit long because fate is a tricky little bitch.

So let me start this out with saying I am in Florida. Southern Florida. Prior to this cold front (80+ degrees) it was a good 92+ degrees outside. The place I run is along the river and it goes north/south. The sun sets and there is NOTHING to block the sun the ENTIRE route. Think...like...when you take a pizza out of the oven and you open it and get that waft of super hot air in your face. This is what the ENTIRE run feels like - minus the pizza smell and replace that with body odor, funky rotting seaweed, and pheromones from the mass amounts of people running. Yes, I do admit - I run this route partly because the ladies are quite lovely look at. Now, there is also no bathrooms until you get to mile 3. It is 3 miles up, 3 miles back. There is NO where to duck and cover. All along a road and a river walk and tons of people and families and college kids (college is right at one end).

Now - also - I have been on a diet. Veges and protein mostly. Lots of farts, but really very solid poop. Fiber and protein could have easily been the materials used for the hoover damn.

So let set the scene for you. It is noon at work. Lunch time. My coworker brings up chinese food. It smells awesome. Magic. I can't resist. Diet? I dont give a pig sh*t. I am getting some. I get ALL of it. Eggrolls, Springrolls, Orange chicken, noodles, rices, etc. Just went off the deep end. I ate all of it. Every. Last. Bit. I also had quite a few cups of crappy black work coffee. I used to be able to eat this stuff...in college...so clearly I think - after being out of college for multiple years...my gut is still the ironclad beer gussling champ it used to be.

I get home. I change into my tri suit. I roll it down. There is a small pocket. My phone fits in it. No shirt. No socks. Just shoes, trisuit, phone, myself, and a damn good attitude. I have more carbs in me than I have ever known what to do with. I had coffee. Caffiene and carbs coursing through my 30 year old veins. Testosterone running rampant. I am king of the mountain. I am about to destroy a new PR. I drive my truck to my start point. I hit the path. I am feeling good. First half mile goes down. No pain. Nothing. HR is high. That is ok. I got this. Mile down. Second mile down. I am feeling good. I am PUSHING it. HR is 190. Sustained. Why? I have no idea. But I was feeling it. Mile 2.25 comes and...well surprise surprise..Panda Express also decides it has had enough of this jumbling. It is not pleased I diluted it with coffee. The shitty coffee is also not pleased I ruined its flavor with Panda Express. They start to fight. No problem. Toilet at mile 3. I got 3/4 mile for them to work it out before I let them loose in a fury of water and little chunks. I hit mile 2.5 and they are beating the hell out of eachother. I have a UFC fight in my stomach. No problem. 2.75 mile comes and I start to F*CKING PANIC. I am hauling ass. I am surrounded by people. Cute children with their families. Couples holding hands. Sunset walk on a path by the water. Then my sweaty wind sucking ass comes whooshing by to ruin the beauty that is. Pheromones are replaced with the smell of sweaty ass. Children were not accidentally created that night because of me. You are welcome people. I am still in a total panic. I got a damn about to break and flood the village below. There will be no survivors. I get to 2.95 miles and I see that bathroom. I see the stand alone mens bathroom by the little childrens play park in all of its glory. That is my sanctuary to f*cking destroy. I get there. I might be leaking juice out of my booty hole. I grab the handle....nothing. It must be jammed. I pull down harder. Nothing. I beat the shit out of the handle. NOTHING. THE BATHROOM IS LOCKED. THE ONLY BATHROOM ON THE ENTIRE PATH IS F*CKING LOCKED! THE WOMENS IS LOCKED. THE MENS IS LOCKED. F*CK.

Ok. regroup. Jump in the river? No, hundreds of people will see me. Bushes? Nope, there are not. We are by a childrens park and a giant open field. Businesses? Nope. Not unless I am wearing a suit and go in a fancy building past security. There is absolutely no place to let this one go. I am going to have to shit my pants. There is no other way.

Wait. There is. About 400 meters past this point is the end of the path and there is some nipple high brush and bushes. Small patch. By the dog park. I can conceal myself in there. People will be all around. It is maybe 100ft x 100ft. I can be right in the middle and let my shit storm loose all over everything. Bingo.

I get there. Tri suit down to the f*cking ankles. There is some beer cans. A small package. Food wrapper. Clearly some bum has been in here before. If he can sleep here and not be seen, I can shit here and not be seen. I start to unleash. I am doing a wall squat. Sweating. I am dying. The smell is f*cking awful. Chernobly. No one will ever be able to sleep here again. I have ruined this small patch of land. It keeps coming. Every tiny little bit of water is getting drained. Small chunks, large chunks, green, yellows...had I seen this in a museum of art and it were made of paint on a canvas - it would have been beautiful. I am looking at the surrounding artifacts. Budweiser. Classic bums. Pack of Menthols. The little box.

The little box.This little box looks new. It is nicely wrapped. This weird. It is out of place. I get distracted by the sound of women. A herd of them. A pack. A flock. A gaggle of women and their beautiful voices. The sound that is making me forget the sound that is coming out of my ass. Sirens calls. Floating melodies on the air. These voices are getting close. Are they still on the path? They sound closer than the path. "It is over here. He said he hid it by the dog park. This is the only place it can be! The card said it was in a box. Look for a box!"


The fucking little box. That stupid little box. The nicely wrapped little box that I am shitting a mere 5 feet from. That little box is what these girls are trying to find. Oh My God. I still have waves of shit coming. Ejecting ferociously from my sphinkter. Mount St. Helens and my butthole could be related. I look behind me. It looks like a mud slide in a third world south american country. I cant run. I can't hide. I decide the only course of action is to yell for them to stop.

"DON"T COME OVER HERE!". In hindsight I should have stated why. The reply is.."Is he over there? Jake? You said this was a surprise!!". Well fuck me sideways. They are 40 feet away. I get an idea. Instead of them coming to the box. I will let the box come to them. I pick up the box and toss it to them while yelling "HERE IS YOUR BOX! I'M NOT JAKE!" (this is important. Remember this)

"What. The. Fuck".....the sweet beautiful voices turn into confusion. It is pretty dark now. My butt has stopped flowing. All the sudden I see 4 or 5 bright LED lights. Cell phone flashlights. Those dumb little women are going to investigate this little happening. They are moving very slowly but still toward me. Fuck it. Pants come up. I run out the other side. I make my get away. I have shit on my legs. In my trisuit. On my shoes. I don't even care. There are no street lights. This little patch is just out of the reach of lights. Dark park has no lights. Childrens park has no lights. I can escape into the black abyss. Which I proceed to do.


Now you might be thinking...what a terrible ending..and what was in the box? Well this story takes a turn and fate dishes out a wonderful yet horrible surprise.

Well the next night I am going out with the new girl I am dating and her friends. Her mom and dad and sister are also coming. Some laughs. Some good times. Some beer. The usual. Well, her and I get to the bar/restaurant and grab a table. Her friends come. There is 5 of them. Her family comes. We all start chatting. They then start to tell the story of how they were on a scavenger hunt last night for one of them. Her boyfriend - JAKE - set up.

Now - I have not met these women yet NOR have I met her mom, dad, or sister. I am meeting my dates friends/family for the first time. They are judging my every move. Every blink. Piercing eyes into my soul. As soon as I heard the word "JAKE" my face went totally fucking white. Like there is not a more white color than what my face went. My pupils must have gotten HUGE in the bright light above the table. The girls all looked at me because - clearly - something is up. My date looks at me and goes "oh my God, are you ok?"

Then one of the girls goes with a monotone soft shocked voice. "Oh My God...it was you! Your voice! You were the one who yelled! That was your shit all over the place!!"

Well the gig is up. My date sees the look of terror and disgust and general freak outery they are portraying. I now have to explain to my date, her dad, her mom, her sister, and 5 of her friends why I shit all over the place in the bushes in the dark and some how coincidentally ran into all her friends. If I lie then they will know. I am definitely not getting laid tonight anyway. Hell I might not have a date after tonight. Everyone already thinks I'm the weird guy who lurks in bushes at night. So what do I have to lose. I proceed to tell them everything.


At the end of the story...everyone was laughing. So I have that going for me haha

That had to be the worst word I had ever heard..."Jake" haha

Also - there was a silly note that said. "I love you" in the box. The final piece of the scavenger hunt. F*ck you Jake. You and your stupid little box made a lot of trouble for me.