Alas, today was another rest day. Lest you think that I’m quickly becoming an epic slacker in the running department, I’ll quickly set you mum as I recount my glorious runs of the weekend (R.O.W.). So let’s begin this post again, shall we?
As mentioned on Friday, Saturday’s run was an easy 4-miler with The Most Informal Running Club Ever. Aside from the incredible wind whose mission seemed to be a one-two punch of literally pushing us sideways in addition to periodically whipping branches around in an attempt to impale one of us, it was a good run where I certainly re-affirmed my appreciation for well-constructed base layers. Thanks to New Balance, three runners happily walked away with a brand new pair of shoes. Sadly, I was not one of those people (lucky bastards!).
Yesterday featured the Hyannis Half Marathon and a road trip with my friends Kim, Jeff, and–the even more lovely than a half marathon given his technicolor outfit–Dr. Toques. After springing out of bed at the ripe time of 6AM and immediately cursing the 20-30mph winds I heard crashing the furniture around on my back porch, we met up and set off to put another half on the books.
Being the ever-so-smart runners we are, we left ourselves plenty of time to park, pick up our numbers, and get in a bit of a warm-up (which for me generally consisted of not much more than a lot of drooling over the thought of eating post-race donuts once I saw the Dunkin’ Donuts tent–awesome sponsor, indeed!). Given our abundance of pre-race relaxation time, I decided it would be the appropriate time to take care of the requisite trip to the Ladies’ Room. Little did I know what an adventure I was in for….
While walking around, I realized there were a lot of people in the building and there would be no such thing as a quick trip to the restroom. As I joined the (ridonkulously long) line, the husband of the woman behind me casually remarked how much it stinks to be female in this type of situation. Upon hearing him continue that the Men’s Room was empty and determined to evade the long, snaking lines my fellow female runners were waiting in, I quickly made friends with her.
Me, turning to my new friend: “We’ll never make it in, out, and back to the start line in time….”
Me, gesturing at the Men’s room that had no line: “…I’ll go in there if you’ll go with me!”
My new friend: “Umm, I’m not sure about that…..”
My new friend’s husband: “Yes! I’ll go scope it out for you!”
As he signals to us that’s “all clear,” we quickly scamper into the Men’s Room, giggling the whole way (while also aptly ignoring the dagger-throwing, evil looks from the women in the long line). Unfortunately, we went in under the pretense that there were two available stalls for each of us to do our business.
As the door closed and we were already past the point of no return, we saw that her husband had mistaken a closet door as a stall door. Obviously, it’s not like either one of us would be peeing in a closet anytime soon!
(By this point, there are men entering the room as we both stood there like deer in the headlights)
I suggested that my friend go first and I’d “cover” for her. And by covering, I meant that I’d hide in the corner while emphatically telling the men who were snickering at me as they entered, “I’m not looking! I’m not looking!” (all the while cracking up myself). Thankfully, a second stall opened up and I breezed in, next to my friend. What happened next will always be seared in my memory of “Things You Don’t Want to Happen Before a Race”….
My new friend, jiggling the door of the stall she’s in: “It won’t open; the door, it won’t open!”
Me (trying quickly to fix my pants and get out there to help): “What? Are you serious?!”
My friend, beginning to rattle the door even louder: “Uhh, yes. OMG, I’m STUCK IN HERE! Ahhhh….I’m stuck in a dirty stall in the men’s room!”
Me (now out and standing on the other side of her stall door): “Hang on a second”
Me (as I begin to throw my shoulder–and all of my weight–into the door): “Wow, I really can’t get it open!”
My friend: “I know; I can’t either! HOLY SHIT, MOTHER F*CKER, IT’S STUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE” (in all caps because she’s really yelling–and swearing–now)
This exchange repeated itself for the next 1-2 minutes with me desperately attempting to pound the door open while she continued to shriek, swear, and bang on the door. Until someone finally took pity on us….
Man who had just been peeing in the urinal:“Back up, both of you!”
Much larger than I, he put all of his weight into the door and it finally busted open. My friend and I? We high-tailed it right out of there, shrieking and laughing all the way to the starting line. Definitely my kind of way to begin a half marathon!
Speaking of running, it was a fairly decent run despite my tailbone, the sudden temperature spike, and the blatant lack of a tail wind. 1:43:46–while not a PR by any means, it’s a time I can live with!
And while on the subject of women peeing in the Men’s Room, I have to say that I’m a fan as long as it’s safe, it’s a desperate situation, you have another person who will go in there with you, and you adhere to the following guidelines:
- Be bold, ladies! When nature is calling and you’re just one pee dance away from an accident, there’s very little you can do to thwart an impending disaster. Therefore, grab your bag, grab a friend, and march right into the room.
- Be prepared. It’s inevitable that someone with a Y chromosome will be in the bathroom while you are entering, taking care of business, and/or exiting. You should be well-versed in the ability to deflect the stunned, confused looks of the men who will no doubt be somewhat amused and excited to see a female in there with them. Ideally, your eyes are glued to the floor so you won’t notice even the hint of a distraction.
- Be (somewhat) incognito. Despite your new-found boldness, this is NOT the time to shake what your momma gave you in front of a urinal. I don’t care if you are the proud owner of a P-Mate, Urinelle, or the Shenis (yes, unfortunately, these are real products. Google them on your own time if you’re interested in learning more; just not while at work, OK?), you need to go into the stall.
- Be mission-oriented. There really aren’t many women who are willing use the Men’s Room unless they are truly about to burst, drunk, accepting a dare, about to run a race, or some sort of combination of these factors. Therefore, it’s really a ‘get in, get out’ situation. Do not feed the animals, don’t strike up conversation, and as mentioned above, don’t even make eye contact if you can help it.
- Be quick. Finally, this isn’t the time to take your time. It is not appropriate to engage in self-loving gazes in the mirror, makeup application, texting, chit-chat, or any of the other things that are the real reason why there’s always an epic line for the Women’s Room–which is what has forced you into this unknown territory in the first place. Please refer to the second sentence of #4….
I thought about ending this post with another, bathroom humor-related, picture montage. Then I realized that it probably already has its fair share of inappropriate, line-crossing material. That and Dr. Toques most likely wouldn’t appreciate more association with women peeing in the Men’s Room… 🙂