A warm south wind kissed my face as I prepared for tonight's adventure. With little time to head to the pleasures found on the trail, I decided to continue my efforts to build endurance on the concreted roads proximal to my abode.
I started of slowly and festively and upon completion of my first mile, I began to wonder if my intended 3 miles and a half more would be somewhat of a manageable affair and began to plan on the addition of more miles.
However my bowels did not seem to hold the same opinion and I found myself searching with frantic energy for a solution to the erupting dilemma. I have heard that true ultra-runners face this issue several times in a long race and successful runners have the most outstanding of skills to manage issues such as this with the highest of efficiencies. Within my proprinquity there are many street repairs occuring and I curse them enthusiastically as I attempt to traverse them. But with a large congregation of street repairmen, there are also large congregations of portable Necessary Modules. With great fortune there was one nearby and with before unseen speed I raced for it with great enthusiasm as I held my bottom and felt blessed that it was not occupied upon my arrival. I will spare you the details of what exactly incurred within the walls of that small sanctuary, except for the fact that one necessary item that is needed upon completetion of such a ghastly act was indeed of a poorer quality than I am accustomed to. A feeling of sandpaper comes to mind when I recollect its usage. I had limited options at this time other than trying to reach a family member through cellular phone communication (help for I have fallen and I have no corn cobs - please pick me up with great haste) . Therefore, I made the unsound decision to continue my journey.
However, I still felt ensured that my plan to add miles was not in jeopardy so I continued at my slow pace with hopes of adding an additional 1 mile and half more. By the time I was able to complete the second mile, a burning began in my loins that had not been felt since I was diapered (which was yesterday). With much dismay I concluded that a serious rash was forming. The Chafe of Booty was upon me with the greatest of force. I have chosen to spare you a graphic description of this indignity other than to tell you I forced myself to continue running with perhaps my greatest display of dedication. And undeniable stupidity.
When I returned home, an immediate soaking in the tubbery (and to think it is not even Saturday) was immediately completed which was proceeded by a most generous application of Ointment of A & D (of which I feel, at this time, is the greatest of inventions this world has known).
After researching this ailment, I found that many runners have experienced similar tragedies and thusly I feel this is a badge of honor and take great pride in my accomplishment (but not to the point of skipping another application of the great ointment).
Tonight's run totaled 5 miles and now I have a new weapon in my arsenal to aid me in my quest to DFL: The Cursed Chafe!
Hark! Last Place is Mine!
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