There are many perils inherent to dropping a deuce in the field, whether you're on a short halt in the AOR or training here at home. One of our friends had some issues lately, though thankfully it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. We're going to present a thorough AAR so as to prevent you from suffering a similar fate. Learn from others' tragedies!
Formal AAR, January 2012 Pine Needle Distance Run Deuce Wipe Incident
Eating carbs is always a standard for distance runners, but fiber can be a bitch. Especially, on the weekend if you have been hitting the burger shop and then following up with a pasta dinner. Typically I shit like clockwork after some morning coffee and this morning was no different, except I had to take a double run to the pot. I just blamed it on the Sriracha, which I like to throw on noodles.
I was off to the races for a thirteen mile long run. I'd just read a response from some jackass Senator telling me he supported guns for sporting purposes, but would support an AWB, so I was a little amped up. About one mile in I knew something was up. The grumble arose and little gas was passed. I figured I was good to go at least till I passed the McDonalds.
You never run past a bathroom when you need it or at least this is what I have surmised over the past years of run training. About three miles in I had a nasty stomach cramp and I knew there was no going back. In Arizona, particularly in the city, if you don’t have a restaurant or convenience store nearby you are typically screwed. Lucky for me there was an old growth stand of about ten Evergreen trees next to some farm land along the side of the rode. For some reason, someone thought it was a great idea to plant pine trees in the middle of the desert back in the 60’s. There were few houses in the area, so I made a beeline for the pines, tiptoeing across the canal along the road.
My first thought was to look out for any homeless dudes making good use of the small tree stand. Luckily there were none. However there was a great fallen tree in the middle of the dark stand that was propped up for a perfect stool. Good to go! I looked around for some rattlers or feisty bugs, but found none. I don’t know what the tree was, but it had a long slender trunk which would work great for leverage and clearance. One does not always maintain mental acuity under such stressors, nor think of toilet paper…I quickly plopped down on the trunk and let shit fly.
This was an unfortunate lapse in judgment, though not quite as bad as it might have been had someone been shooting at me.
The clean up effort was an immediate concern. I wanted to finish my run and nothing sucks worse than a shitty ass gumming up the works (and the follow up chafing that results). I quickly looked around for some grass or something suitable to do the wiping and keep my hands clean.
The only thing worse than swamp ass is stink-hand wafting up with each fist pump driving momentum.
A quick scan of the ground revealed brown pine needles, which looked dirty and a bit spiny in their brittle state. Clearly, not something you want invading the holiest of all holies. Upon looking up, however, I noticed green gold hanging from the still living tree. Acting with a confidence I should not necessarily have felt, I moved to gather hte clumps of needles that would create the necessary barrier between ass and hand.
I will admit, my first wipes were timid. I didn't want to bring a handful of needles back with me, or worse have to suffer a burning bung hole during the trip's completion. As it turns out, the needles worked great after several swipes (obviously with a fresh batch for each go round). It appeared all was well and I could complete one more step in my training calendar without a care in the world. Upon return home I was quite proud of my adventure and felt this was just one more checkmark upon the road of life. I even gave some thought to create my own line of “Green TP” with packaged pine needles providing the ultimate in eco-safe ass wipage. Then I came down from my runner’s high and realized business decisions while in the constant state of pain that comes from running and pine-needle ass-wiping are probably not too prudent.
You may wonder what I learned from this whole ordeal. In reality, I learned absolutely nothing. Shit happens, and you deal with it in the best means possible. Mostly I was just happy not to have pine needles like porcupine quills piercing the rusty sheriff's badge. In fact, the only real fall out was some pine needles that stuck in the drain once I hit the showers. Apparently they hadn't all fallen out on their own (nor come away in my hand).
We hope that you reap some benefit from his experience and must reiterate his suggestion to use green pine needles instead of brittle brown needles should you be caught up in such dangerous deuce-dropping terrain…note that he avoided pine cones altogether.
We're betting some of you reading this have your own tales of deuce drop danger. Feel free to share.
Mad Duo Clear!