Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Speed Work: Nature's Laxative

Speed training is really shitty. I’m not making one of my usual clever puns or excuses to slip in a vulgar word on a public blog. Balls! I’m above that. No, I mean literally shitty. Here’s how it works (presented to you in short, masculine Hemingway sentences):

- I run intervals.
- I sweat hard.
- I am the envy of all that bear witness.
- I feel a small lump in my abdomen.
- I fear it is a hernia. Or the track made me pregnant. No, no, it’s a hernia.
- I run home for a shower.
- My hernia starts sinking lower.
- Now it pokes its head out to have a little looksee.
- I realize it is not a curious hernia and rush to the bathroom.
- I explode like I just sat on a chocolate grenade.
- I didn’t save anyone. I am the only victim.
- Clean up in aisle Ass.
- Oh, the humanity.
- I go about my day.
- I sit on three more chocolate grenades at various intervals throughout the afternoon.

This happens every time I do speed work. If I do 4 x 1600 meters at the track, I also do 4 x explosive poo on the toilet. It’s gotten to the point where, if I’m feeling a little backed up, I consider throwing on my shoes and hitting the track. I tell Mrs. Nitmos, “You know, I’m a little clogged from yesterday’s steak. I’m going to hit the track. Can you have the light and fan on with a book or two prepped on the bathroom sink. Make sure a back-up role of paper is close by! I’ll be home in 35 minutes.”

Tuesday is track/speed work day for me. And Tuesday afternoon is Call the handyman to fix the ceiling fan day as well. I have him on speed dial. We are thinking about putting in an open air retractable atrium. At this point, it just makes more sense.

Why do people take pills to get things moving down there? Just hit some intervals at your local track. Bran, fiber, Metamucil….it’s all a bunch of poopycock*. The answer is right at your local track. I’m still working on the scientific formula – which I hope to present to Runner’s World sometime next year when the restraining order has been lifted – that equates Intervals, Distance, Meat Consumption, and Effort into an equation that can be used to anticipate your colon reaction.

Something like:

(I x D / M.C. (ounces)) / π x E = # Chocolate Grenades Expected

It’s still a work in progress. Eat your heart out Einstein. (What the hell does E=mc² mean anyway? What does Meat Consumption have to do with energy?? And why on Earth would you square it?) But way to look like Doc Brown from Back to the Future, Einny. Cliché!

If you don’t want to go through all of this trouble just to rattle the ole Stink Locker, I guess you can still do manual disimpaction the old-fashioned way: The Bobby Brown-Whitney Houston way. No link. You’re welcome.

Happy….BOOM goes the chocolate grenade!

*Not a gay joke.

1600 meter intervals in the 5:58 range. Looking for 5:55's just for the numerically pleasing sameness but, so far, no success.


The Sean said...

Energy = meat consumption squared. brilliant, you must have high brow reading material for "when it is going on."

Elizabeth said...

Man, this post makes me hungry! (j/k of course)

Ace said...

I feel your "chocoloate grenade" is rather considerate in his "sinking lower" and "peeking out". My large grotesque planetary size chocolate "dirty bomb" waits for no man in his race to exit my bowels.

Just saying...

Vava said...

The it IS true what they say: the end of privacy is nigh...

Very entertaining. I weep for your plumber.

ShutUpandRun said...

I'm encouraged and jealous that your "hernia" (code word for large dumper)is nice enough to take a looksee, yet wait until you get home to make a full appearance. Very respectful.

Lauren said...

Oh this happens to me too. Also long run days. I have to take Immodium before my long runs or else.... chocolate grenade at mile 18!

Jake said...

HOLY CRAP! At least you don't have the u-turns...coming out both ends.

Before speed work and 20+ miles I'll preemptively take two pepto tablets so I ensure I can make it to a toilet.

Danielle in Iowa in Seattle said...

Do you do speed work in the morning? In the morning, I am just a grenade waiting to go off. No running for me until there has been success! Otherwise, my day sounds like yours.

Jess said...

Haha oh my gosh this post made me laugh out loud! Too funny! And kind of nasty too haha.

Drea said...

As if you made it home to the actual pot. What kind of runner are you?

Irene said...

Thi is life in a runner's real world. These are the unspoken things that go on... Well, almost unspoken. ;)

Chanda M. DeFoor said...

I told someone recently that poop and running just "go together." He was not a runner, and I could tell he was disgusted.

(And I don't even eat meat!)

chia said...

I feel sorry for whomever plays the "role of paper" in this epic tale :-P

You crack me up :-)

Beth said...

I hope your wife has her own bathroom. :)

Teamarcia said...

Speed work is so good on so many fronts.