Two weeks ago, I went for a run down an overgrown logging road at dusk while visiting my parents. Before I headed out, my mom told me that the very last house on the paved part of the road before it turned to gravel used to be owned by their neighbors. In my head I heard "blah, blah, blah, Bob and Mariann, blah blah blah". I did, however, hear the part about the new people that live there own a Great Pyrenees, but that also went in one ear and out the other. Stay with me, because this is relevant to the story.
After a mile of literal huffing and puffing up these horrible hills where my parents live, a huge 4-legged animal jumped out of the brush in my direction. I had my headphones in and my music turned up and wasn't paying attention to a thing, except the road ahead of me, getting darker and darker under the trees...yikes. I was expecting a bear or cougar, so of course I yelled out loud when the dog came into focus. But, I instantly realized it was that dog my mom was talking about. The Great Pyrenees (yes, you should google that). At this point I was sufficiently spooked. Blah, blah, blah, stay with me I'm getting to the good part of the story.
So, after passing this massive dog and hitting the gravel logging road that NO ONE uses anymore, I started having serious cramps. Like, ok bear with me, menstrual cramps. I was baffled because I was no where near the date on the calendar when I should start having cramps. So I just kept running. The further I went, the worse they got. Finally I realized, "Ohhh, these are diarrhea cramps! I've heard of this happening to distance runners before!" I stopped running and tried to take a few deep breaths to chase them away. No dice. Logically, the next step was to look for a nice sheltered place to go take care of this stomach issue. I had recently gone on a few dates with this survival instructor guy that showed me this fuzzy plant that he said works great for TP in the woods. Again, no dice. I couldn't find it anywhere. "Alright." I said to myself, "I'm just going to need to find a tree to hide behind and deal with the consequences. Maybe I can get away with just using my underwear to clean up. But then how am I going to be ok with carrying them back to mom and dad's house?"
I started walking back down the road the way I came, looking for openings in the brush. Remember, this is an overgrown, unused logging road. I could've gone in the middle of the road and not one person would have ever seen me. I found a place on the left that looked ok, so I started to investigate. Taking inventory of the area, I noticed a few old beer cans and bottles...and an old extension cord...and some weird white things that could've either been broken venetian blinds OR shards of human rib bones. I was leaning toward rib bones. Did I tell you the sun was setting? It was officially dusk. Woods + dusk + plastic pieces that looked like human remains. Obviously I was minutes away from getting snatched by the boogie man, dragged to some deserted shed on the side of the mountain, and slowly cut apart, piece by piece, with a rusty hatchet. My only defense to this imaginary killer would be to shit my pants and hope I stunk so bad he had to abort his mission and leave me alone.
At that point I just started to run back. Who cared if my stomach hurt and I was about to poop my pants? I'd rather soil my pants than be tortured to death by a crazy mountain man. Good news, I made it back to my parents' house, unscathed, and my MapMyRun app said I ran at a pretty quick pace, too. Well done, me. The moral to this story is coming.
As soon as I got home and told this story to my sister, she just looked at me, smirked, shook her head, and said "You should write a blog." I'm telling myself it's because she thinks that I have an amazingly entertaining life. However, realistically, she probably said it so I'd go tell my ridiculously exaggerated stories to the random interweb public instead of to her.
That's it! That is the story of why I decided to start a blog...because my sister told me so. You're welcome! Enjoy the ride!
