Thursday, June 2, 2011

Runner's Blue Balls

Ever start a run, just to have to stop less than 5 minutes into it?  That is what I call blue balls for runners.  Specifically, the trail I run at has a 0.1 mile path that leads you to the trailhead.  I use that 0.1 miles as a walking warm up.  Two times in the last two weeks, I've had to stop as soon as my feet touched the trailhead and began to run.  Lame.

Time Number One: rings...crap.  Nate:  "Nipper (our dog) is in a lot of pain and is shaking.  I'm at the vet."  Me: "Sigh. Crap, I'll be there in a minute."  Remember, I work at the vet, and I JUST LEFT 10 minutes ago to start this run after work.  Ugh.  (Nipper was totally ok, she was sore after her vaccines I had given her the day before).

Time Number Two (TODAY)*burp*...oh god!  That burp brought up some stuff!  Body: "Oh, looks like we are puking.  I guess we should continue."  Brain: "Oh, ok.  I'll get right on that." 
So I hurled.  Awesome.  It should be noted that I've never puked on a run before.  I have a stomach that is usually made of galvanized steel.

After I finished puking, I looked at my Garmin (to restart it, since you know, I was doing more expelling of food and liquids than running at that point)- and it had died.  Batteries, no more. 

I said "FUCK IT!" and walked back to my car with my head hung in shame.  Totally planning on doing the run later tonight.  It didn't happen.  Why you ask?

While I was cleaning my house (waiting for the Garmin to charge), I found this mystery substance dripping down my refrigerator.

So, I open the cabinet, look on top of the fridge...nothing!   Then, I remember. There are two boxes of coke on top of the cabinet above the fridge from Christmas 2009.  That must be it! I move the first one- totally fine.  I moved the second dirt! 

Moldy Christmas Coke Box.  Fantastic.
So, my question the hell do collectors have those 50 year old coke cans?  This was inside my house, it's not like they were sitting in my car, expanding with the weather or something.

After pulling out the fridge, scraping 12 cans of coke worth of jellified sugar shit off the floor, and washing the cabinets, the fridge itself, and then MYSELF because I got it all over my arms....I was pretty tired.  And not interested in running anymore.

The running gods were not with me today, folks.

How'd everyone else do?

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