Posted by: tgrevatt | July 17, 2010

A little running levity

I love my sporty life and my running/cycling/swimming community. Every now and then I’m reminded that our world can be a little ooky and rather off-putting to newcomers. It’s been a few weeks since Ottawa’s fabulous running festival – Race Weekend. This year I had a blast as a pace bunny and was immensely grateful to blogger friend Natsbrain who came to my rescue with a thermos of ice that I dumped down my cleavage at approx 17km – utter bliss. She tells her side of the story here.

I’m really enjoying local blogger and all round interesting soul Susan Murphy – although we rarely meet in person, we raise a virtual glass often on Twitter (we ought to do it in person since we are practically neighbours AND she has a pool, doh!). Susan is a new runner and very gently reminded me today that going public with the details of my wobbly toenail is not encouraging to new runners; other friends had a pool on Facebook to guess the date of their own nail departures and don’t even think about chatting with cyclists! She also had a blog posting today encouraging us all to lighten up a bit on the web and not take ourselves so seriously. My philosophy is share the silliness that happens to me so that someone else can learn from it – yup, ever the teacher. I commented on her post about my awesome 80’s hair and alluded to an embarrassing running moment. So now I share it with you…

In the summer I like to run from Westboro beach over the Champlain Bridge to Aylmer – it’s cool near the river and shady on the bike path on the QC side, an added bonus is a dip in the river at Westboro beach afterwards to chill the legs. On the day in question it started to rain and got fairly heavy as we were crossing the bridge. Now it’s a well trafficked road, and there’s nowhere to hide if, say, your shorts had not been well rinsed in the laundry and have a smidge of detergent remaining in them. Imagine if you will the chafing action that occurs when someone of my stature goes running (hence my love of Bodyglide). Add in some rain and Tide. Now think of how a racehorse starts to froth and sweat and you start to get an idea of what was occurring right at my crotch. Of course, I don’t notice this for the longest time, so I’m lathered up pretty good. I would’ve blushed if I wasn’t already my usual red shade from exertion. So I ran across the bridge, facing traffic, whilst trying to squeegee away the crotch froth periodically, bent double from laughing. Seriously, if this wasn’t a laughing moment – then I don’t know what is.

Folks – rinse your sports kit well and avoid the perils of suds in entertaining locations….

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Responses

  1. hilarious story… frothy merriment! Imagine if the rest of your kit was equally in need of squeegeeing. But at least your shorts were being pre-cleaned even before you got home.


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