Nasty Habits I've Picked Up from Running

(NOTE: PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING: Disclaimer: This post is not for the weak of stomach. Or for those who don’t already know me well and REALLY love me. Because if you don’t already know and love me and you read this, you’ll never have any desire to meet me. So do me and yourself a favor and read my other posts first. And then maybe, maybe come back to this one—after you know and love me.)

I’ve said it before, and I stick by it: Runners are odd creatures. There are certain things that are acceptable, necessary, or even “cool” when you’re running. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that, when not running out on the trail, these things aren’t exactly “kosher” in society. A few examples from my personal experiences:

1. The “Farmer’s Blow”
Also known as the “Snot Rocket” or “Alabama Hanky”. (I was informed of the latter name by a really cute guy in Alabama when I was out running with him on a semi-date. I may have had a cold and may have instinctively used said Hanky...and I wonder why things didn’t work out with him…) If you’re not familiar with it, it’s a disgustingly practical and effective invention. You simply plug one nostril with your thumb, turn your head over your opposite shoulder, close your mouth, and blow. It works like magic.
(It takes a little bit of practice, but with hard work and determination, it can be a very trusty friend in times of need. Try it! No, really!)

However, I find that I’ve gotten a little too reliant on it and have to watch myself when I’m not out running. I was walking from my car into the grocery store the other day and needed to blow my nose. So what did I do? I plugged one nostril with my thumb, turned my head over the opposite shoulder, closed my mouth, took and deep breath, and…

GROSS! I caught myself just in time. Who DOES that in public?!

Other words of caution: You have to be careful and very aware of your surroundings when doing this. Make sure you’re blowing downwind, or it’s just not worth it. And you have to be strategic about it in races—not strategic as in waiting until your competitor is right behind you and aiming over whatever shoulder they’re drafting off of; I mean strategic by NOT doing it when someone is behind or beside you. Oh, and be careful of treadmills. On the rare occasion I’m forced to resort to them, I usually have to catch myself at least once so I don’t ‘snot rocket’ all over the carpet of my apartment complex’s fitness room. Sick.

2. Gloves are great—they also keep your hands warm!

When I first got started running more seriously, it was wintertime. On a splurge, I invested in a pair of hoity-toity running gloves at a hoity-toity price. But they are oh-so-worth it.

The best part is the soft, fuzzy covering that runs down the back of the thumb and all along the lower part of the back of the hand. What’s that for? Wiping your nose, naturally. No, I’m serious, that’s what it’s for. (People get paid big money to design snot-wiping parts of gloves—and I teach middle school for pocket change. Life is so fair.) I love this fuzzy part, though, because it reduces the need for Farmer’s Blows—or just makes clean-up after them more efficient and less gross.

But on one (or more) occasion(s) I was walking from my school building across the parking lot to my little Trailer Park (i.e. classroom) on a cold day. I had on my sweet, 100% wool, very nice “Handie” Salzburg gloves. My nose was running, so I lift my hand up to my face to wipe the snot all over my gloves and…

GROSS! I stop myself just in time. Not all gloves were meant to be snot rags!

3. “Bathroom” is not so much defined by what it is as by what is successfully accomplished there

You’ve hopefully read the post about Colorado Runners and all-natural bathrooms. I’ve gotten more comfortable with the organic, all-natural granola side of me, including finding a restroom whenever I need one on the trail.

But sometimes I forget that not everything is like a 20-mile trail run.

I was out on a “hike” with a friend—meaning a 15-minute climb up Ensign Peak in Salt Lake City, Utah. Partway up the hill, I realized I needed to go to the bathroom. My natural reaction when I’m out on the trail running is, “Ok, let’s get this done now, because it’s not gonna get any better over the next 18 miles—and there’s no way you are gonna make it that far unless you do something about it!” So my natural thought process was, “Ok, go find a little grove of trees, Depew.” Not a big deal. I even started telling my friend I was going to go do that until I remembered—Dude, this is only a 15-minute hike! You can hold it!

Sick. I felt like a boy. Gross.

4. Despite the great chagrin you will all feel at reading this, I choose not to elaborate on the gastro-intestinal activities that runners experience. I still have some social inhibitions, thank you. Well, at least I do when I’m not out on the trail, all by my lonesome, with no eyes, ears, or…noses…for at least a 3 mile radius. ;)

And on those lovely notes…

Anyone up for a run?