The Yuck Chronicles

Recently, a friend who is marathon training sought my advice for a delicate problem. Remembering that I had previously heartily recommended the purchase and liberal use of Body Glide, she asked in hushed tones whether I ever had chafing in odd places after my long run. When I inquired about which particular odd places, she sheepishly pointed behind her.

Now, I’m still a little too girly to confirm in a forum this public that I’ve ever had direct experience with my butt cheeks getting a little too chummy with each other during runs. Let’s just say I’m familiar with the existence of this issue. Yes, it happens. No, it doesn’t mean you have a big ass.

While embarrassing, on the scale of running related ickiness, this problem doesn’t even approach the highest level of gross. The activity that is arguably the poster child of clean living is actually quite disgusting.

At this point, I would like to warn my reader (Hi Dave!) not to eat while reading this. Below are some of the things that make you go ewwww.

Feet. Runner’s feet are notoriously bad. While some runners are blessed with the genetics that allow them to maintain perfect flip-flop ready tootsies, others quickly develop appendages that look like they should be exhibits in the Mutter Museum. Thick black toenails anyone? Blisters? Scaly toe tips? Pedicurists just love us. As does everyone else when we announce that we feel so much better because the toenail finally fell off. Add to that the sinking realization that the late night excruciating itching between your toes means you have contracted the fungal infection known as athlete’s foot, and you know you will never mate with anyone possessing a foot fetish.

Sweat. We’re moist and stinky. We know this, and it doesn’t stop us from going for coffee or food shopping on the way home from a run. I know of at least two running groups that go straight from their runs to a bar, sans intervening shower. I’ve heard of beer goggles; are there beer nose clips? Also, speaking for myself here, I know that when I work hard on a treadmill, I create a sweat spray rather like a city fountain that lacks water pressure restrictions. This does have the benefit of ensuring the treadmill next to me is the very last one claimed.

Potty. Ah, yes, the phrase “the runs” does have two separate meanings, but they have been known to intersect. Sometimes, usually without warning, all that bouncing up and down dislodges the bagel you placed in your belly earlier in the day. If you are a business that has a restroom, you have an interesting dilemma on your hands when a sweaty, pale and clearly desperate jogger begs you for use of your restroom. If you say yes, you will be enjoying some fine karma, because, believe me, that runner is really in need. You will also be creating some warm fuzzy feelings in that runner for your establishment (thank you again, Copabanana in University City!). The flip side is that they will be in your bathroom for at least ten minutes, and the person following them in should bring a mask and a gross of matches to light. I think you would have to grant bathroom privileges in this instance. Otherwise would be like steaming away from a lifeboat full of shipwreck survivors.

Also, most runners participating in races, particularly races longer than five miles, use the portajohn first. While some portajohns have hand sanitizing lotion in them, most still don’t. Disgusting in and of itself, compounded when you think about that box of soft-pretzels and bagels that everyone is tearing into at the finish line. But we’re all very healthy.