I wake up every morning at 5AM, throw on my running shoes, a hoodie, a hat, gloves and my blinking vest and hit the streets of my suburban town to run. It's not easy to get up most mornings we make it through but this morning was particularly difficult as the salmon tacos I had last night were not negotiating in good faith with my stomach and I was about to get screwed I make sure I'm well emptied before I head to the street as I don't want any problems, or so I hoped. My left ankle is achy and my left knee hasn't been right since I stepped into a pothole during a run a few weeks back but neither are quite as troubling as my stomach which by mile 3 is has gone from 60% enrichment to 90% fuel. The issue is that I'm not even half way done and I'm not off on some dessert or under a giant mountain and anybody with a knowledge of suburban sprawl will tell you there are very few places to hide. Plus this is my own neighborhood where I know most everybody and dropping a ballistic missile without letting your friends know would be more than a bit wrong. But I luck out, as I'm feeling like I'm going to absolutely boil over, I see an off ramp in the form of a porta potty at a construction site right next to a friend's house. With no time to waste and in the pitch dark I am met with blessed luck as there is no lock on the door, so I run in drop onto the seat snd pray to the good lord as the fury the likes nobody has ever seen before took shape. The sounds from that porta potty was akin to the howls of innocent women and children being slaughtered. I'm sure there will be an international inspectors checking out that nuclear site from now on but I'm just happy we didn't accidentally start WWIII. Sent from my iPhone
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