funny, humor, running

The Common Denominator

THE RACE IS OVER:)! I absolutely set no records, I walked more than I ever have in a race, and I was miserable for much of the time, but I crossed the finish line. Since I'm going to assume that the majority of people in the world didnt probably run 13.1 miles yesterday, I've decided to be satisfied with the results.


I think the end of the race is always the best part. Not just because my sore, tired muscles and bones are ready to be done, but because I enjoy watching complete strangers congratulate one another and say encouraging words. I also love saying to the people around me “Well, we got that done up”! Most people say things like “We sure did” or just smile and nod their heads in agreement, and other people, like the cool teenage girls that have matching shirts, just look at me weirdly, and think I'm just an odd old lady. But I never care, because I'm so happy to be done. I just love looking around and seeing everyone share this excitement and exhaustion together and knowing that this is our one common denominator.

After the race, people go in multiple different directions, celebrating in their own separate ways. Some stick around for the post race party, listening to local bands, while drinking a relaxing beverage. Some go to lunch with their families, and others, such as myself, go for a celebratory drink and talk about the challenges and highlights of the race. Since we unknowingly parked in an area that was not going to let us out until the race was over (3 hours later), we limped our tired legs, backs, and groins to the closest eatery/bar. It just so happened to be a pretty fancy place too. So, with our hair matted into sweat balls, our skin resembling a salt lick, and with our bodies emitting horrible varieties of body odor, my brother, my friend, and I entered the building shamelessly. To our pleasant surprise, many other runners made this same decision, so we fit right in.

When you are in an area with alot of people in your same caliber, you start to notice things you share as a whole. For instance, most everyone there probably had a “not so fresh” aroma. My brother was no different, but he may have taken it a bit further than the rest. He couldn't handle another minute of his own smell so he headed to the fancy dancy bathroom. We joked with him to ask the bathroom help for real washcloths and maybe a sprig of cologne. He laughed, but secretly had his own plan. He clearly forgot his public etiquette, probably due to delirium from running, since he hadn't trained at all, and due to the pain in his pulled groin. Regardless of the reason, he came out to tell us that a police officer was looking at him strangely in the bathroom, maybe due to the fact that he had removed his shirt, and had given himself, what I call a face, pits, and privates bath, using wadded up paper towel and the soap from the sink. He was not embarrassed or ashamed, he felt ENTITLED, and I felt PROUD!

Another issue that many runners have in common after the race, is problems with their stomachs and/or intestines. This is can be caused from several things such as anxiety, eating all those sugary race supplements while running, and perhaps from simply pounding all of your internal organs together for at least 2 hours. Regardless the reason, I was no different. Upon taking my own 4th trip to the bathroom, I was trying to use my public etiquette, unlike my brother, and was making a huge attempt to keep my bathroom issues private. It wasn't long before I realized this wasn't necessary. There was an orchestra of sounds occurring in the ladies bathroom. There were not only sounds of a variety of horns and reed instruments, but also that of extreme retching. My new bathroom friend and I tried to help this poor lady out by offering her a glass of water, which I guess we would have handed her under the stall, but what else can you really do? As I gazed down at her one new running shoe, that was laying outside the stall, I found myself wondering if this was truly the result of the running alone as she said it was, between and during her body thrusting heaves. Or could this have been the result of pounding back too much tequila in this short time after the race. Either way, who am I to judge, she was ENTITLED. We all were. Plus I couldn't rule out that I wouldnt be there myself in an hour or two, depending on when my legs went numb.

Truthfully, after running a race like that, we all feel entitled. We don't want to watch the kids, we don't want to cook dinner, we don't want to listen to how horrible it was for our significant others to wait for us, in the two hours it took for us to destroy our bodies inside and out. We use this excuse for at least two days, acting as we feel necessary, and giving demands to people who could never imagine what we may be feeling or thinking. Is this a little dramatic? FOR SURE! But we're going to go ahead and take it anyway:)… Cheers to a great race day!!!



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