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Athletic Running Shorts

Athletic Running Shorts

Running Diapers

Author: Steve Sommers

My friend Eric used to be on the news every night on the NBC
affiliate in Minneapolis. Just before the Sports segment came
on, the news would play this quick little montage of local
sports events, and Eric would be shown crossing the finish line
in the Twin Cities Marathon. Every single night.

His wife, Chris, thought that it had more to do with Eric’s
appearence – blond, blue-eyed, Scandanavian – than what a great
athlete he was. The actual winner of that race was Kenyan, as
were the second and third place winners. Eric, I remember, ran
about three hours and three minutes, which is really great, but
far out of the money for one of these deals. Like about
forty-five minutes. So, you can see why he would be a suspicious
choice to show on the clip reel for athletic excellence if
that’s all you were going on.

I was a spectator at that race, standing at the sidelines along
with other of Eric’s friends and was watching as the actual
front runners crossed and I happened to notice that the fifth
place winner had poohed herself. On the back of her legs there
was this greenish-brown explosion of pooh that ran from the back
of her running shorts down to her sneakers. The announcer at
this event, who was also doing the televised play by play,
accurately reported that this woman had finished fifth overall
for women and first in her age, but he didn’t report the one
most important fact, which was that she’d crapped on herself. I
thought he was a horrible announcer.

How could you ommit the most impressive part of this woman’s
victory? She was so dedicated to winning that she bypassed the
many port-o-pot ties along the route so that she could finish in
the money. In her case that was five grand.

It made me wonder. How much money would you have to pay me to
take a dump in my shorts and run for miles and miles at my top
speed in front of hundreds of thousands of people viewing me
live and then millions more people watching on TV? Not five
thousand, that’s for sure. It would have to be a lot more than
that, I can tell you. And this woman did it not for a sure five
thousand but just the chance that she might win something. You
know, even if you assured me that I could guarantee world peace
for all time and humanity would be happy thereafter, I wouldn’t
do it. I guess I’m too selfish.

In my prime I used to do a bit of running (still do. But I’m not
in my prime). I used to enter three or four ten K’s in the Twin
Cities per year. The big joke for my friends the day after one
of my races would be to ask: “Did you win?” That alone would
cause great mirth in and of itself and I wouldn’t even have to
answer. Well, no, as a matter of a fact, I never did win any of
those races. I was usually exactly in the middle of the
placings. When my age was factored in I placed considerably
better. Anyways, I would occasionally read Runner’s World and
came across an account of a woman racer who had done precisely
what that other woman had done. She’d lost bowel control during
a race and persevered, and in the article she was very detailed
about how it felt – very detailed.

Ewwww! It was far too much information. This was long before I
saw it first hand at Eric’s race, but until then I hadn’t known
that runners did this sort of icky thing. I guess I’d thought
that if you needed to go during a race, you found a gas station
restroom, or something. That’s what I would do.

For non-runners, I know, the question is why anyone runs at all.
It’s really one of those things that you have to experience to
understand, but I believe the answer is that it’s one thing
humans were designed to do. (intelligently. By Jehovah. In one
day). I’ve read that being able to run for long distances was an
advantage for human hunters, who would outlast their prey that
could run fast for short distances, but couldn’t outlast people
in the long haul. For me, there is a sort of ‘runner’s high’,
which isn’t all that high anymore and definitely not the same as
being high ‘high’, if you know what I mean. (Drugs are bad.
Don’t use drugs). And there’s a bit of back to nature, since I
usually contrive to run somewhere where the scenery is pretty.

Lastly, it affords me the opportunity to eat like a hog- not
entirely anymore – and not have to pay all the consequences
thatI normally would. If I had never run a single step in my
life, I truly believe that I would weigh four hundred pounds
right now. Never mind what I actually weigh; It’s not four

About the Author:

Steve Sommers is the author of Breakfast with the Antichrist.
Visit his Website at

Article Source: ArticlesBase.com – Running Diapers

Athletic Running Shorts

Athletic Running Shorts

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