About 500 yards into the run, I found a hole. And promptly stepped in it. And turned my ankle. Given that the last time I stepped in a hole, I needed surgery for a badly broken foot, the luck of the Irish was with me tonight. Despite the ankle twinging (and probably swelling to frightening size even as I sit here and natter on) and a dodgy knee, I kept running.
And really, the old lady joints were the least of the pain tonight. The real pain came from the hideous chub rub. I knew it was humid. I knew I had rubbed my inner thighs to diaper rash ointment needing level on Sunday. And yet, do you think I remembered to use the ole Body Glide tonight? Nope. Instead, I am Desitin bound again. Love smelling like baby diapers when my youngest kid is 7. Eau de freshly wiped bottom. The scent all the cool kids are wearing this year. By the end of my shortened run, the rub was so bad, I had drawn blood. Too much further and I would have had blood running down the inside of my legs. That's just how you want to look: as if you got your period mid-run and didn't bother to stop for appropriate feminine hygiene products.
It didn't help the rubbing that it was thickly humid tonight and I am a total sweat hog. Even worse, my bladder decided to protest the running and remind me that having carried three hefty babies over top of it for nine months has left it rather weak and leaky and unimpressed with the jiggling it endures during runs. So in addition to sweat exacerbating the rubbing, I think I was slowly wetting myself as I ran too. Pee and sweat down my leg. Not that that burns or anything. Yipes! And really, why not wet yourself if you're going to be smelling as if you wear a diaper later anyway? Wonder if they make runner's diapers or if that would just add more areas to the potential chafing list.
I haven't run with my GPS watch for the last few runs I've done (and I do mean FEW). This is because I managed to lose the watch. I found it today in a crevice in my car (and yes, the car is that much of a disaster that something can be lost in it for months--I have kids, remember?!). And promptly didn't use it tonight. I didn't really want to know how slowly I was running (very) or how short a distance I went (very). But like I said, I did run the whole way and that's an improvement.
After the run, I was wiping the rivers of sweat from my forehead and noticed that my forehead is peeling already. Given that I burn like a lobster within 6 nanoseconds of sun exposure, this was not a huge surprise. However, I didn't think about the fact that wiping the sweat upwards into my hair with my forearm would carry all the soggy skin flakes into my hair, dotting it with yuck that made me look like a Head and Shoulders before ad. When I went to the store after the run, I wanted to tell people that I didn't really have dandruff, that it was my forehead shedding skin, not my scalp. But since I smelled like wee and massive sweat, I'm not sure anyone got close enough to actually see the faux dandruff. See, I can be a glass half full kind of person, now can't I?
I also noticed after the run how hideous my legs were. I long for the days of swimming when I had an excuse for not shaving because telling people I forgot this morning in the shower just sounds lame, no matter how true it is. And honestly, my legs only need a half a day to start looking like Sasquatch is a near relative on my family tree. Actually, I'm not convinced he's not closely related to me, but that's another shameless post for another time. How legs can be dry and sweaty at the same time, is totally beyond me. Add in spiky, black hairs bristling all up and down them and you now know why my mother has suggested that laser hair removal might be a good Christmas present for me sometime. And I don't disagree, but it's gonna cost the moon to take care of all my hair issues. No one has stepped forward to pay for that teensy, tiny bit of cosmetic improvement yet either.
So, in a recap of my evening: despite twisting ankle in a stupid hole, ran the whole way on a short, slow run, leaking sweat and urine, before heading into the grocery store in all my hairy, funky glory and grossing out the entire Harris Teeter population. Now aren't you sorry you read the long version first. ::snicker::