>> Monday, October 19, 2009
I didn’t know what, exactly, to title this post, so I stayed with something simple and direct. I had a small list of other creative titles, but nothing said it better than those 4 words.
It happened on a tempo run yesterday. I ran a hard 5.0 miles in 30:06 (6:01/mile). But you don’t care about that. You want to hear about my pain. Jerk.
I stretched on the floor of our bedroom before running. Pharmie had just wrapped a present for our friends’ wedding (Maddy and Luke) a few days before in that same spot. The wrapping paper was COVERED in glitter. Yeah. You know where this is going.
I had my running shorts and running shoes already on, but I realized I probably should put on a pair of compression shorts to keep my fleshy Winnebago warm for my chilly morning run. I kept my running shoes on as I pulled my running shorts down, fed my shoes through the compression shorts, and then put my running shorts back on. Looking back, I bet there was glitter ALL OVER the bottom of my shoe as I forced it through the compression shorts.
I started running. I was under 0.5 miles into the run when I felt something weird: a gentle “burning” at the tip of my foo-foo. Not something I’m used to. Not something I want to get used to. I knew what it was. Damn glitter.
It slowly got worse, but not so bad that I needed to turn around early. When I hit my turn-around at mile 2.5, I was on a super quiet side road and there were tall bushes around me. So I whipped it out. It was a little red and inflamed around it’s “eye,” but it wasn’t about to fall off. I figured I’d live. So I forced out a little pee (and got it on my hand and leg) to try to get any damn glitter out of my pee tube.
Umm, wow.... It’s not often you hear “to try to get any damn glitter out of my pee tube.” But I guess I say a lot of things that you might not often hear. ;)
So I turned around (slightly covered in pee), and finished my last 2.5 miles. My bushwacker didn’t get any worse, but it didn’t really feel any better. It was just burning the whole time. But not bad.
I finished the run, ran into the house past Pharmie, and got up to the bathroom to pee out any remaining glitter. I picked at my cream-filled meat stick a little more, but it was just time to let it heal up on it’s own.
A half hour later, all was right in the world.
10/18/09: the day I had a horrible run because of some glitter in my designated hitter.