But you thought this post was about the beauty of solitude in running and how it is significant to the private workings of my complex lifestyle and mind. But it's really about something embarrassing that happened to me today.
Tonight, I was stretching at the track with Eric. There was no one else on the track. I really had to relieve myself, drain the lizard, wee-wee, whatever. Seeing as how empty the entire area was and that there was an inviting patch of shrubbery (God made it so I could pee in it), I decided to just go pee in the bushes, like any rational and desperate human being would do.
But as my luck would have it, at the precise moment I'm at the prime of my relieving process, a mysterious car turns from the street INTO the track gate and starts heading towards me. Frantically, I try to shake out the remaining liquid in my bladder. Eric starts yelling at me, informing me that a car is heading my way. As if this wasn't embarrassing enough, stream lights flash on and shed light directly on me and my package. It just had to be the cops.
I pull up my pants and casually walk away from the squad car as it inches towards me. All sorts of thoughts run through my head. I really hope this isn't that stupid anal cop who would write you up for not wearing a helmet when biking or "lewd act in public" for peeing in the bushes. He pulls up finally to Eric and me. I turn around and say "Whatsup officer?", as if nothing had happened. He has a huge grin on his face and asks "There's a truck parked outside, it wouldn't happened to be yours, would it?"
Knowing immediately that there is definitely no truck parked outside, I shrug and tell him I know nothing about it. He gives me one last look and drives off, probably laughing to himself and making a mental note to share this hilarious story with the boys at the station.
The end.
