Aw Poop!

Two days ago it was glorious.  The sun was out, it was not too hot, not too cold.  It was juuuust right.

Hi!  My name is Goldilocks and I am going to tell you a story!  Just kiddin'.  My name isn't Goldilocks.  My name is Brunetilocks.  Brunetilocks in a box.  Other wise, I'd be Greylocks.  How dull.  Sounds like something you'd get out of a tin can in the tuna fish aisle.........

Sorry.  I digress.  It was a glorious day.   The outdoors called to me and I embraced it with gusto.  I grabbed my running shoes, threw on my running not pants not shorts come to my knee black stretchy things that make others run in the other direction when they see me, a top of sorts that had too much spilling out the sides, and a sweatshirt to cover up the nightmare.

I had a new trail to blaze that I'd been thinking about exploring and I decided this was the day!  Trail, means road, with lots of houses on it because The SM doesn't want me out and about running by myself and if I do..... then he wants people to be close by so if I decided to have an epileptic spasmodic convulsive fit right there  in the middle of the road someone will drive over me and put me out of my misery.  

Did I mention it was a glorious day?  It WAS!  I was trucking along jogging looking at all of the houses and trying to see into their windows and see what people do on a day like two days ago, looking in their yards so see if they have as many weeds as me, assuming if they didn't they have a hired gardener.........  I was several miles into my run when it hit.

Remember this post!!  Awww poop!

What is it with running and having to POOP!!  I'm stuck in neighborhoods that I don't know anyone!  I could knock on a strangers door again........  if I want to hit the 5:00 evening news!  Pooping Stalker Strikes Again!  You think you're bathroom is safe........ and then........ the doorbell rings...............  next thing you know, a stranger is in your bathroom and when she leaves, the paint is peeling off the walls.........

I start to play mental games.  That building up there!  It looks officey.  I bet I can sneak in the back and use their toilet!  I get closer..........  It's a juvenile center for young boys.  It's got locks on all of their doors!  What???  What is this world coming to when it starts to lock pooping runners out?

More mental games.  There's a bend.  I bet there's something around the corner.  I turn the corner.  About an 1/8th of a mile up the road I see a Honey Bucket.  Who pray tell came up with that name?  I can just see some buxom farm wife waving a rolling pin yelling at her seedy husband, HONEY!!!!  GET IT IN THE BUCKET!!!

I get closer to the Honey Bucket and I start to have a conversation in my head.

Me:  Phew!  You dont' have to knock on a strangers door!
Me:  It's a Honey Bucket...... it's there for the construction workers working on the road.
Me:  Yeah!  Who cares!  It's a flipping Honey Bucket!
Me:  There are two men standing by it.
Me:  Who cares!  It's a flipping Honey Bucket!
Me:  I bet men have peed all over the floor and seat in that thing.
Me:  You're right, let's see what is up and around the next bend.

I keep running telling myself that I know there is a church coming up soon.  Helllooooo!  I live in Utah!  There's a church on every street corner!  I make it to the church.  I'm proud of myself.  Dang proud!  I haven't pooped my pants.  I've made it!  I'm saved!!!!  The doors are locked........  I'm sure there is a metaphor here.......

More mind games.

Me:  You've been able to hold it this far and it doesn't seem to be getting any worse.  The pressure isn't building.
Me:  True......  I bet it is just my imagination playing with me.  I bet I don't have to poop for reals.
Me:  Oh I bet you're right!  I bet this is one of those mental game things trying to make it harder on you.
Me:  I'm so glad we're a lot smarter than my mind.

I keep running.  Only you can't call it running because I'm now grimacing and squeezing my butt cheeks so hard, my hips are tilted under, I now resemble a dog that has been whooped and has it's tail between it's legs. If I had on corduroy pants they'd be making a 'rip rip rip' sound my inner thighs were squeezed so tight.

The last stretch home.  The stretch I was on when I had to knock on that strangers house.  Still trucking along.  I can see the gas station up ahead.  It's in my grasp.  I'm almost there!  I CAN DO THIS!!!  I'm so excited.  I'm so excited I forget to keep squeezing as I pass THE HOUSE................  the pressure I'd convinced myself that wasn't building hits with full force.

Me:   IT'S THE HOUSE!
Me:  I KNOW!
Me:  We are SO not stopping AT THAT HOUSE AGAIN!
Me:  What do you suggest?
Me:  SQUEEZE!  SQUEEZE  DANG IT!

I obey.  I squeeze.  I refuse to look at the house.  I imagine the owner is looking out his window.  He sees me.  He can see by the way I am squrching (that's a cross between squeezing and lurching) down the road that I've got to poop again.  He's laughing at me.  JERK!

I hate public bathrooms.  They disgust me.  Gas station bathrooms especially.  I made it to the gas station.  I sprinted to the bathroom.  I sat down and the biggest sigh of happiness came out of my mouth.  I love that bathroom.  It's a public bathroom.  It disgusts me.  It's a gas station bathroom.  WE ALL HAVE OUR FAULTS!!  Get over it!  

Today is a glorious day.  I am going to go running.  If you see me squatting beside the road do me a favor?  Pretend with me that you imagine I am down examining some pretty rocks.  Just smile and look the other way and if I call you from the police station because I've been arrested for indecent exposure, just come and bail me out.  No questions asked.  Remember, my name is Goldilocks.  I have a history of going into strangers houses/bathrooms, jumping out windows, and running all the way home.