Running with the Runs...

Friday night, as I prepared for my 20 mile run the next morning, I noticed I had a rumble in my tummy. I had gas, gastrointestinal upset, and I just didn't feel right. But, I ignored it thinking the yucky feeling would pass, and I would be fine in the morning. Boy, was I wrong.




During the night I tossed, turned, tooted, and groaned. My guts were churning like Niagara Falls. I could hear a mysterious sound coming from my guts. I knew something was definitely wrong. I woke up an hour before the alarm went off and had to run to the toilet. It was not a fluffy floater as I had desperately hoped for. I had the runs, the crappers, the shits...I had diarrhea. This was not the way I had planned on starting my morning especially since I was about to run 20 miles. After that experience, if you will, I sat on the couch and attempted to drink my glass of water. The sight of the water made me nauseated. My mouth kept watering as if it was a precursor to vomiting. I felt horrible. I was bloated, nauseated, my bowels hurt, and my ass hole kept puckering up, waiting with anticipation for the next movement which was coming soon. I could not drink the water. I couldn't do anything but focus on the gross feeling originating in my guts. I contemplated not running, but I couldn't imagine not going for a training run this close to the marathon. I contemplated running with the runs--that image didn't seem pleasant, either. I wasn't sure what to do. So, I took some Maalox and waited. As I waited for the Maalox to kick in, I had to run to toilet again. Again, I was disappointed with result...it was NOT what I was hoping for. It was disgusting. I was convinced some horrible bacteria was trying to kill me.





I thought about what I had eaten the day before in an attempt to find the culprit that was causing me so much misery. I thought about every morsel of food I ate. I did recall eating some cheese that smelled a little funny. I asked Husband if it smelled bad, and he said it was fine. So, I ate it. I should have known better. I should have listened to the voice in my head saying don't eat it, don't eat it...Husband has guts of steel, but you don't, don't eat it, don't eat it. Of course, I ate it. I was angry with myself for doing something stupid, but it was too late for that. The damage had already been done.





I tried to continue with my usual early morning run rituals, but trips to the toilet kept getting in the way. It was hard to think with my guts gurgling and my mouth watering. I got dressed and headed out the door. I knew I couldn't run 20 miles like this. I could barely drink anything. How was I going to run 20 miles if I couldn't drink anything? How was I going to run 20 miles with the runs? How was I going to run 20 miles feeling tired, nauseated and with an ass hole that kept wanting to pucker up?





I met my running buddies at our usual meeting place and told them I had diarrhea. Some said I should just run and see what happens. Others said I should just go home. Others said I should run for a few miles and see how I feel. Since I had already completed a 20 mile and a 19.2 mile run earlier in the month, I wasn't too worried about this particular 20 mile run. Most people usually only run two 20 or so mile runs in preparation for a marathon. So, I figured I would be okay without this 20 mile run. I just couldn't see how I was going to make it 20 miles without puking or crapping on myself.





So, I decided to run until I just couldn't run anymore. I started off feeling okay, but my mouth kept watering in anticipation--that's never a good sign. As I swallowed my saliva, my stomach acid attacked it with gusto causing horrible stomach cramps. Then, the nausea and cramping would subside for about 2 minutes and then return with a vengeance. I tried talking to take my mind off of my bubbling guts, but it didn't help. I made it about 4 miles and had to stop. I was close enough to my apartment and decided to run home. As I walked through the door, Husband wasn't surprised to see me. He thought I made the right decision. I showered and rested on the couch.




I was disappointed with my morning, my run, and my body. I was let down by the very thing I had been relying on...my body. I felt beaten. I could not control my bowels, and I was pissed off. I had been training so well. I ran through a cold several weeks ago, but there was no way I could run 20 miles with a stomach bug. I felt totally defeated. But, that feeling didn't last very long. The overwhelming urge to puke and poop distracted me from being disappointed. I just wanted to make it through the day without puking my guts out or spraying the back wall.




I'm happy to report that I'm much better today. My stomach and bowels are no longer being attacked. Thank God!