There are quite a few reasons to I like running at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning: it's still dark, the streets are quite, there's no traffic, the beautiful sun peeks over the horizon, and peaceful thoughts prevail.
But, on this particular morning, there was one very important matter of business that at mile nine had eradicated any and all penchant for an early morning run and made me wish I was back in the comfort of my own home. The business to which I'm referring to is not one that is socially or legally acceptable to do behind a bush or tree in the middle of the city. And it was at that moment and for the next several miles that I wondered "Good Lord - where the heck do I find a public restroom at 7:00 on a Sunday morning?!"
I knew from the moment I woke up that I was in for a very long run. Let's just say that the "plumbing" was not prepared to withstand a 3 three hour long run either. Between miles 9 and 11, I ran through campus desperately scanning the area for an open building. Every door I found displayed in white bold letters "Closed Sundays." Oh, I would have settled for a construction site port-o, but they seemed to have those locked up, as well. The custodian at the Terrace would lend no sympathy to my situation and did not offer to open the doors just this once. (gee, thanks). So, I pressed on.
The next 4-5 miles were rough, but the end was nearing and I thought maybe, just maybe, I could finish strong. That was, you see, up until mile 17. And that was it - that was the 'wall' I had read about and I hit it. I needed a bathroom NOW. So, we were forced to backtrack, making a mad dash for St. Mary's Hospital. No, it wasn't a matter of life or death, but I am forever grateful for their open and somewhat public restrooms.
After that, it was smooth sailing. Yes, I was exhausted and sore and tired and worn, but at least I didn't have the excess baggage - so to speak. I finished strong... 3 hours and 18 miles later. Whew!
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