Everybody Poops

Marathon runners scare me for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that they are willing to pee and poop themselves during races. I've never witnessed this with my own eyes, but I am certain that it is not a pretty sight. On top of the gross factor, I also can't figure out the mechanics of the action. How do you relax your external urethral and/or anal sphincters while you are contracting your abdominal, gluteal, quadricep, and hamstring muscles?

Anyway, here is another story about running with Titan. After a 5.1-mile run with Josh that nearly destroyed me yesterday, I decided to go for a slower jog with Titan this afternoon. We were almost home when for the umpteenth time, I felt resistance on the leash. Assuming that Titan had just gotten distracted by another bird, I kept pulling on the leash while running forward. A few seconds later, I realized that this wasn't like the rest of the stops we had taken. I turned around to see Titan crouched down and pooping on the sidewalk. As a result of me dragging him, he had literally left a 6-foot trail of poop behind him.

I quickly realized that I, foolishly, had not bring a plastic bag with me on the run. Stunned and embarrassed in front of all of the other pedestrians and the drivers stopped at the intersection, I did not know what to do. I finally resorted to grabbing a coffee cup out of a nearby trash can and using it to scoop up the poop to the best of my ability, while apologizing profusely to everybody who walked by. Residents of the French and Spanish Language Houses, if you see a giant brown smear right in front of your dorms, well, now you know what it is.

Oddly enough, I was wearing the same green hoodie that I wore when I got hit by a car door. Maybe I need to stop wearing that when I run. And maybe Titan should stop training for the Boston Marathon.