determination1I was talking with a friend the other day about a topic that is common place amongst distance runners but not so much with the general population.

Timely bowel movements.

Now, I know most of you upon reading that are thinking. This guy must really be a sophomoric twit.

I can’t argue that, but for other reasons beyond the discussion of poo.

And, you runners out there are thinking. Preach it brother! It’s about time somebody brought feces to the forefront.

For those of us that run beyond 2 miles on a regular basis there is a good chance you have been “caught” in a very uncomfortable situation.

It’s an awful feeling.

You are smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Not a gas station within 10 miles, not that you can make it another 10 feet. Then the come to Jesus feeling that there is no way you will make it and you must find a proper place to discharge yourself. Now pooing in the great outdoors can be tricky. Pissing aint worth mentioning. Heck, there isn’t a square mile in southern Minnesota I haven’t pissed on.

If you gotta piss you piss without a second thought.

Pooping is something different.

The first time this happens you never forget. It’s like losing your virginity. For me, it was a Saturday in the early Fall 1999 I was training for the Twin Cities Marathon. I was 3 miles into my run when it hit hard. I had a mud monkey in my belly and it was screaming to get out. Now, here’s the thing. I was smack dab in the middle of New Brighten. A residential area. Shit! No, really.

But the good Lord was looking out for me, for at the end of the block was a small park. Thank you Jesus!

I dashed behind a bush and did my business quickly. Cleaned up with some leaves and moved on.

Wow, my first public poo.

Later that day, my son over heard me telling the tale and asked me.

Poppa, did you poop like an Indian?

Yes son. Yes I did.

Since then I’ve shit all over the place. I guess I’ve become a bit of a poo whore.

Corn fields, Condos on Clearwater beach, a cemetery just off 75th street.

You name it. I’ve pooped on it.

For you doubters out there, I challenge you to go to your nearest marathon and look at the lines at the port-o-potties. Those are my peeps.

That’s some preddy deep shit man,

Keys