Life's challenges come in all shapes, sizes, and sometimes… smells.
I hadn’t run a half-marathon trail loop since August, so last weekend I figured I’d go see if I could still hold my usual pace on my favorite route. That morning started off a little off when my local cafe was out of my normal breakfast sandwich. Instead, I took the guy’s recommendation and ate some random sandwich I’d never had before. Didn’t think twice about it.
Around mile six, my stomach started cramping. Mile seven, reality hit. The nice little sweatband I wear under my hat, handmade with scissors from an old KETL Departed featherweight tee, was officially promoted from sweatband to toilet paper.
No big deal. Little diarrhea. Life goes on. Keep running.
Just a quarter mile later, things went sideways again. This time I sacrificed a sock. For symmetry, I took off both. I then proceeded to run the rest of the half marathon sockless, assuming blisters were the worst of my problems.
I pushed through the cramps, fully abandoned my optimistic pace goals, and shifted into “just finish this thing” mode. Then came mile 10.1. That’s when I realized this was officially a triple-diarrhea half-marathon trail run. The final sock, which I’d been carrying in my pocket, was deployed.
Could I have been more prepared? Sure. But I run minimal. No shirt. Trail run shorts. Boxer briefs. Shoes. Socks. A little nutrition. Phone. One handheld water bottle. That setup has worked dozens of times before. Why would this day be any different?
Turns out it was.
Still finished the route at an 11:06 per-mile pace with 2,142 feet of ascent / descent. I chalked it up as a uniquely challenging run that I am sure others can relate to.
Later that night, while telling this story, someone reminded me of something important:
I’m a shitter, not a quitter.
Sincerely, Jeff - KETL Mtn. CEO
