A shitty run, literally!

       There has never been a point in my adult life where I really faced the possibility of shitting myself. However the poor choices, that I seem to make all too frequently with my diet, put me in these oh so delightful situations. I guess eating tons of sushi is never a good idea, or eating tons of fiber rich food the morning after eating tons of sushi. Having tons of any food in your system and then drinking a healthy amount of coffee usually helps to empty out said system within a good hour or so. After this hour has passed and bowel movements have been made I figure at that point I'm back at square one and I shouldn't encounter any problems for the rest of the day. Well I suppose that idea is a bunch of shit, pun intended.
       It's about 4 in the afternoon on Wednesday and a nice 90+ degrees out and I'm feeling pretty good, so I think to myself lets go for a little 10 mile run. First 4.5 miles I'm feeling great, not feeling to hot you know, sipping on some Cytomax along the way averaging about 7:15 min/mile pace, just cruising. At my turnaround there is a little pit stop with a gas station, Mcdonalds and Starbucks, I take a quick piss at johnny quick and then head back out on my way.
       At about oh 0.5 miles after I hit the turn around I get the overwhelming urge to push, like it's time to give birth to a massive dump. So, as I'm still running at a slowing pace, I weigh my options, do I go back to Johhny Quick and drop this bomb, do I continue on and hope it goes away or do I wait for another 2 miles before I hit the next pit stop. Oh no! it's coming now, so I turn the fuck around and pick up the pace with Johnny Quick in my sites. I get back there petty quick and I'm overwhelmed with relief that there is no one in the bathroom and I get straight to work. Wham bam and I'm done. I head across the parking lot and get back out to the trail feeling lighter on my feet and ready to get home to a nice cold shower.
       Now I'm about 5 minutes out and starting to feel like maybe I should have taken my time in the bathroom because it's starting all over. Nice poop cramps right in my lower gut, but this time it's no joke, this is the real deal, this is going to happen now. As I am trying to cope with these overwhelming feelings of shitting myself I see 3 older ladies walking the opposite direction on the trail. At this point I have stopped running because I am literally flexing my butthole so tight that I can't extend my legs enough to even power-walk. As the ladies get within feet of me I don't look in their direction because I'm thinking to myself that they are going to see a grown man in running shorts literally shit himself right now. They pass and I still haven't shit myself, now what, there isn't a tree, shrub or any scrap of cover for which I can use conceal this shitpocalypse that is about to take place. I look left, I look right, then down, a small trench maybe 6" deep with weeds growing in it, my shorts are at my knees, squatting just above the ground I feel the weeds poking my ass, ahhhhh relief. It's over, my shorts are up head down, weeds in my crack.
I get to the next pit stop and clean up, then head home. Garmin stopped as I am walking the last few feet to my door I am now thinking how I will retell this story to my wife, for some reason I don't think she will be too surprised.