So I got pooped on for the first time.
I didn’t even know it until about mile 10 when I reached the park for my bottle of contraband electrolyte-infused water and a potty break. That’s when I saw it…the white-ish black-ish blob on my left shoulder. Oddly, I thought it was funny and I ran the whole way home with it still on my shoulder. Yes, I was slightly embarrassed as I ran next to cars sitting at a stoplight, knowing they could see the white blob as clear as day and were probably laughing thinking I didn’t know that I had been pooped on. I had to feign a back itch behind my right shoulder a few times to cover up the blob, but when I got home I couldn’t wait to take a picture of the results of a little birdie’s target practice. It’s kind of like a badge of honor…my bullseye on a run. Not that I want it to happen again, but for some strange reason I feel like I earned it. Like if you run so long you are inevitably going to get hit at some point, and when you do, it just proves that you didn’t go out for a dainty little jog. NO! You are a fierce, fearless athlete who doesn’t let a little cold or wind or a Christmas Eve case of Montezuma’s Revenge or stepping in doggie doo or being the bullseye in a flock of birds’ target practice stop her! No, sir! I am a RUNNER!!
Okay, so I do have to admit that I realize the poop landed on me the only time I wore an Iowa State T-shirt on a run. I do see the irony in this. I even think that I saw a black and gold jersey fly past my head around mile 10. Better luck next year. Suckers.
“Things that hurt, instruct.” -Benjamin Franklin
“If you are going to be a champion, you must be willing to pay a greater price.” -Bud Wilkinson