Ah the joys of wiring. On top of being the creative director at the (very small) creative firm I work for, I'm also the technician who 'gets' to wire our edit and production equipment. This week has been focused on getting our mobile production studio back together which has kept me from blogging. The reason our mobile studio was in pieces is that up until September of last year the equipment lived at the church we did production at in West Palm Beach, FL. The week before we were going down to do a conference last fall,Hurricane Ivan swooped into Florida (with our General Manager burrowed up at the company owners house). The church where the equipment was, we thought would be safe since it was a heavy duty old machine shop with steel roof joints, but no. The roof was peeled up like a sardine can and tossed into the parking lot leaving the churches property and our equipment open to the rain.
Somehow, all of our equipment was fine... even in some cases pristine. But all of it had to be shipped back to Colorado Springs and inspected. Now that it's been pulled apart and inspected we've been rearranging the layout and beginning the process of rewiring.
Wednesday night, after getting ICBINB! (I Can't Believe It's Not Buttah!) home I went out for a short ride to see how she was handling. With the sun going down and not really having anywhere better to go with the remaining light I had, I rode across the street to the preparatory high school just to do a couple laps through the parking lot. I hadn't been down there lately and so hadn't seen the brand new running track they had just installed... I decided to see where my running was. I've been doing quite a bit of riding lately but hardly any running so getting out on the track and running a couple of laps I thought would be a good test.
Being made of some sort of rubber/cork material, I was fine running in cycling socks and as I started my first lap I felt alright. I was above where I should have been with my heart rate, but I was surviving. Then, about halfway around the 1/4 mile track it hit me. Somewhere deep inside my gut, my bowels started to wake up and let me know that they wanted some relief. There's nothing around AT ALL that would provide such relief to this bodily function and so I had to stop and wait for them to calm down. After they did I started back up and made it to the 3/4 mark before... BAM! Again my body wants relief. Is there anything more frustrating than running less than a lap before ones body wants to release the escape hatch?
Slowing down, I made another start/stop lap around the track and got on my bike to hustle home. It must be the position on the bike, but I'm almost never struck with gastrointestinal issues while on the bike. Even after eating a veritable smorgasboard of nutritionally questionable items on rides I've for the most part been just fine. There IS an Ironman story that I could tell in this, but you can give me feedback on whether I should tell it because it's not super graphic, but more graphic than most Flabbyironman stories.
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2 comments:
Now you HAVE to tell the story. We have no secrets around here and I am sure we have all heard worse horror stories. Or even worse been through worse...
i agree with flatman. you can't introduce something like that and then not tell us. spill it!
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