Eat Drink Run Woman

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING POST MAY BE CONSIDERED TMI.*

My darling and I just returned from a whirlwind trip to Fairbanks for my sister’s wedding (left late Thursday evening, arrived back home Sunday evening). Despite our hectic schedule, we were determined to fit in a run. Although our training called for an 8-10 miler, we figured that may be optimistic. But given the debauchery we were sure to engage in, we knew even a short run would be beneficial to both our bodies and minds.

We had a window of time on Friday afternoon between shopping and cooking for both the rehearsal dinner and wedding, but I was keen on doing a midnight sun run. Besides, it was hot during the day — almost 80 degrees! (For those of you unfamiliar with the interior of Alaska, the sun barely sets during the summer. When we arrived Friday morning at 1:30 it was as light as 8:30 p.m. in Seattle).

As I was prepping the Greek garbanzo and orzo pasta salads, I refrained from partaking when my sister — the bride-to-be — offered to make me a Bloody Mary. However, my resolve soon waned as my darling decided to pop the cork on the Little Penguin shiraz about an hour later.

sigh

Knowing a run was on the horizon I not only kept my wine quaffing to a minimum, I also drank several glasses of water in between. But when we arrived at the rehearsal dinner at my brother’s house, the wine flowed a bit more freely. I also make a pig of myself of the home-smoked and roasted salmon, as well as the numerous side dishes.

Our original idea was to join my sis at the Howling Dog, a bar about 5 miles from her house, enjoy a quick drink (or two), and then run home. However, after consulting with several people who knew the route, we decided that running FROM my sister’s house TO the bar would make more sense, as it would be mostly downhill. We stopped at her place to change into our running togs and visit the restroom. Although I was a bit buzzed, I knew I could still run 5 miles. Besides, I figured it would be great practice for Medoc.

The run started out rough: the first 1/4 mile is up a steep, slick gravel road that would be challenging even when sober. About half-way up we decided we should walk to the top. Fortunately the road then turned into rolling hills for the first mile or so, but given all the jostling the salmon burps started coming on strong.

Although it was about 9:30 p.m. when we started the run, the sun was still shining brightly — so much so I wished I had slathered on some sunscreen. But what a gorgeous route (sorry, no photos); it felt great to run where there were few cars and little noise.

At about mile two the road started a gradual downhill. I was feeling rather good, but then — what’s this? It can’t be! I went potty before we left!

It was just a niggling feeling — nothing major — but I definitely started feeling some discomfort. However, within a span of less than five minutes I went from “I can run it out” to “Hmmm, perhaps I should start looking for bushes with leaves that can double as toilet paper” to “OH MY GOD I HAVE TO GO NOW!!! I DON’T CARE IF I HAVE TO WIPE WITH DEVIL’S CLUB!”

I dashed down a shallow ditch and tried my best to hide behind a small bush. While the light made it more challenging to keep my modesty, I welcomed it (I tend to get creeped out when venturing into the woods. Don’t laugh — even an ad in Runner’s World acknowledged the issue by saying “Ever notice it’s runners who find dead bodies?” But I digress).

My darling, meanwhile, ran interference — literally — back and forth on the road to distract the few cars that drove by (if that’s not love, I don’t know what is). All that was available to me were a few tiny leaves, but I made the best of the situation. But believe me, I made a beeline to the restroom when we finally arrived at the Howling Dog.

Running is SOOOO glamorous!

* Too. Much. Information.