Look, you may think from reading this post and this post, that I’m constantly consumed by turds. Or am I simply consuming turds?
Regardless, truth be known that every single day of my life I try to escape poop, feces, doo doo, #2, shit or, as my daughter calls it, 'poo poo'. But I just can’t.
It's part of me. It's everywhere. From the office to the home - I'm destined to always be around turds in every facet of my life. Even when I run.
Let me tell you story.
Yesterday, the weather was above 50 degrees, so I thought I’d skip out of work a little early and go on a long run.
Warm days in Ohio during the month of February - like yesterday and today - are extremely rare.
'How rare?' You ask?
Well, remember that scene in The Perfect Storm when the crew of the Andrea Gail hung on for dear life as their boat was relentlessly twisted and catapulted by the angry saltwater of the mighty Atlantic Ocean?
Then, just like that, everything subsided. George Clooney, Mark Walhberg, John C. Reilly and the rest of the crew popped their heads up, took a glance out of the window and noticed the sunny skies and the calmness of the sea.
For a couple of seconds they looked around at each other and smiled thinking to themselves “Yeah, we beat this thing.” Oh, but reality quickly crashed down when they soon realized that they didn't escape the storm at all. They were in the eye of hurricane. Then, that huge giant CG wave kicked the ever-loving shit out of them.
In Ohio, that giant Perfect Storm wave represents winter and the Andrea Gail represents Ohioans in February. This freak weather is nothing but a cock tease designed to give us blue balls (pun intended) for two more months. Screw the groundhog. The Spring - as the rest of the world knows it - doesn't hit Northeast Ohio until early May.
But I digress...I pulled into the Bath Nature Preserve parking lot, tossed on a pair of shorts and running shoes, then took a quick whiz before staring my run.
I noticed a group of high school kids playing Frisbee football in the wet soccer field. A warm (gasp!) wind was blowing in from the west. And, for the first time in a long time, I was comfortable outside.
I wasn't 1/4 mile into my run when I heard a familiar sound: SHLUMPF! I looked down and my right Asics running shoe was now a rotten shade of brown. I was so ecstatic about being outside that I forgot to look where I was running. I had just stepped into the biggest pile of dog shit you’ve ever seen.
And, judging from the various shades of brown and the size, I later surmised that it wasn’t simply one giant turd left by some Marmaduke dog - but an assembly of various dog turds from a variety of mutts.
I cursed the owners of the foul beasts, scraped my foot in the melting snow and continued on my run.
About a mile in, I decided to give this particular run a title: Dog Poo Everywhere! (at least I assumed they were from a dog).
From big piles to small pebbles. From dark brown to light tan. Tons and tons of dog turds were strewn on the jogging trail as far as the eye could see - sort of like the fallen soldiers in Gone With The Wind or the injured kids who fell off the trampoline in that one episode of The Simpsons.
Again, I cursed the owners.
Did they not know that snow melts quicker than dog turds?
What were they thinking when they passed up the doggy poop bag dispenser at the beginning of the trail?
Is there some sort of dog shit amnesty that I'm not privy to, which states that you don’t have to pick up your dog’s crap when it’s snowing out?
In any event, I decided to turn this disastrous run into a game and imagined that I was NFL running back dodging doo doo defenders on my way to the end zone.
That's when I felt a slight pang in my intestines.
Oh yes. Just like the many dogs that pranced around the park and did their business, I suddenly had to take a crap.
I pulled a small bundle of toilet paper from my jacket pocket (Boy Scout Motto: Be Prepared) and pranced into the woods like a white-tail deer dodging a hunter’s bullet. I found a nice clear, piece of un-melted snow and proceeded to do my business.
After wiping my bum, I covered up yesterday’s dinner with a pile of snow and pulled up my shorts.
In my urgency to get back on the trail, I did a 180-degree turn and suddenly heard a familiar sound: SHLUMPF!
I looked down and my left Asics running shoe was now a rotten shade of brown.
I silently cursed myself.