Monday, 20 February 2012


Since my last post I have begun to tell people about my new endeavour.  I have found this to be the hardest part about the blog.  I told my husband on Friday evening; the poor guy, I was so worked up about telling him that I laughed hysterically, off and on, for about ten minutes before I spit it out.  (I should note that this is one of my quirks, I laugh hysterically when uncomfortable or overtired.)  With that kind of lead up I am sure he thought that I was shagging some other man, but no, just writing a blog.  I tried to explain that my apprehension was stemming from the fact that I am essentially laying myself bare for all to see, or rather, writing myself bare.  Also, the “p” word does factor in here.  Poo.  I am writing, essentially, about running and shitting, and, as we all know, poop is a taboo social subject.  The experience of trying to share the creation of this blog with my friends, family and colleagues is very reflective of the whole IBS experience.  Sufferers tend to approach the issue in different ways, depending on their comfort level.  I used to approach it by not approaching it.  It used to be something that I really tried to hide, and, I think this is the norm for most IBSers, especially for those who are newly diagnosed.  With time I began to realize that trying to hide it was more exhausting and stressful than not hiding it.  I should note that stress is one of the major triggers for IBS.  My approach to IBS and whether or not to reveal it to people has gradually changed over the years.  For the most part, anyone close to me knows about it, and, unfortunately for them, likely know too much.  I have decided that I do not want to have to spend my time trying to explain away the five 20-minute trips I took to the washroom today, why not say it, everyone is thinking it anyway!  By telling people it lets everyone off the hook, I don’t have to come up with a random excuse for my conspicuous absence and others don’t have to pretend to notice the length of time I have spent in the washroom.  

Now that I have that out there, I must tell you, it has been several days since my last run.  With a brisk -13 temperature I layered up and hit the road.  Overall, I was able to run 3.5 intervals of six minutes (just over 4k) before I had to visit the loo.  I suppose this is a slight improvement over last week, if only in the sense that I did not visit the ladies room until after the intervals.  I very briefly contemplated my “run after the run” strategy, but, changed my mind immediately at the thought of the length of time it would take to get my layers back on.  I should really be more motivated.  

Where all the magic happens...
Tonight’s run marked one of the few times in my life that I thought I was going to get run over by a car.  As you can see, I lived to tell the tale.  I can assure you that I was wearing light coloured clothing and looked both ways before I crossed the crosswalk;  there was a stop sign, so the driver really had no excuse.  I was pretty peeved about the whole incident as he proceeded to beep and gesticulate after nearly killing me.  I will let your imagination run wild with thoughts on how I responded. 

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