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I assume that means you want to hear the run story then? ok. For starters, I always have a bad time in the bathroom after chinese food.
My body has a very strict schedule when it comes to pooping. This was reinforced by a very strict schedule in the Marines. I woke up every day at about 530, started getting ready for work, went to the bathroom around 615. Every morning. If I miss the pooptime, my body gets angry. Very angry.
Now in the Marines, every thursday night, if you live in the barracks, is field day. You stay in and clean everything up for the inspection friday morning. So everyone always orders food to the barracks, chinese, pizza, whatever. I decide this time I'll get chinese, some general tso's, forgetting about the 6 am CO "fun run" we're gonna have before we all head into work on friday. Eats mah food, cleans mah room, goes tah bed. My roommate wakes me up at about 550 saying I'm gonna be late for the run. I only have enough time to throw on some tighty whiteys, my pt gear and head down. You should never be late in the Marines. They don't like it.
Now this isn't the first time I've had early morning runs, and I've got a system where I wake up about a half hour, forty five minutes early and piss off my roommate doing jumping jacks and situps until I need to poop so it doesn't come up on the run. I did not have this chance to prep on this day.
So I'm out on the lawn in front of the barracks with the whole sqaudron cold and angry, wondering how far I'll make it before I have to fall out. One of the staff nco's gets the wonderful idea of doing the daily seven excercises while we're waiting for the CO to show up. Awesome. The daily seven consists of, you guessed it, jumping jacks, situps, leg lifts, exactly the stuff I do to get my poop on. I'm a little more than worried. If I miss my poop, it changes state from solid to liquid, and turns into some sort of self propelling jet fuel.
After all this, the CO finally shows up (thanks for joining us dickweed, yes, YOU said 6 am!). Asks if everyone is ready, and promptly proceeds to book it down the road. Everyone's caught off guard, because sqaudron runs are never fast, we have to attempt to sing cadence, and keep up as well, with the jackass in front of you that keeps turning the fucking formation into an accordian, speeding up and slowing down.
Anyway, we're chugging along, I'm actually feeling pretty good, thinking I might just make it out of this yet. I don't usually wear a watch, but apparently my bowels do, and have noticed that it's past pooptime, and they're not happy. They let me know. Starts with the bubbleguts, kind of a bluRGaBargulububububub and then the running gas. Glad we had cadence to cover up the sound, cause I was letting loose with every step.
You need to be careful with the running gas, it has a tendency to try to sneak the poop past the guard gate.
I realize this is what's happenening on probably mile three of the run. We're in the woods on the base. Not good. I hold on as best I can until we break out onto the pavement of the back road heading towards some barracks. I know we're close and maybe I can make it to the barracks, depends on which route the CO takes through the base. Yeah, he's still at the front, running like an ass trying to see how many he can get to drop out. We're making good time and I'm doing ok until my body decides
I go 90 degrees out of the formation so fast I nearly knock into one of the gunnery sergeants keeping pace, he starts with a "WT..." and stops, I assume because he sees my face and the way I'm now walking. I keep it cool until the formation has passed and I'm standing by the side of the road looking for the closest building with a free bathroom. Headquarters building. About 200 yards away. It's my only chance.
At this point I'm doing kind of a seizure walk/run/shudder towards the building, stopping often to make sure the gates are still closed. I'm about 100 feet away when it happens. I can't control it, there is nothing I think of, I was so terrified. I shat myself. I have 100 feet left, and it lets loose, in broad daylight, next to one of the main entrance roads of the base. But! I had some luck! The road was empty at that minute, and I wore tighty whiteys. I NEVER wear tighty wighteys. I have them for inspections. They manage to contain my waste inside the shorts, so that I can finish the walk to the building and try to salvage....something.
I make it inside when I realize that I just walked into a Headquarters building. That has full bird colonels running around. I'm a lance corporal in PT gear with shorts full of shit. I have become a green shorts wearing, shit holding ninja. I make it past several officers offices and one in the hallway with a response that I'm sure sounded like "whehowhmpph..mmm!"
I make it into the head, run in a stall and begin the process of trying to remove my shorts and underwear without getting it all over myself. I remove my shoes, socks, pour the contents of my underwear into the toilet and use the newspaper in the door to wrap it up. I spend the next 10-15 minutes wiping myself off while varying levels of brass enter the head, start to smell me, and walk right out. I'm almost about to cry. I know I'm gonna get caught, and I will never hear the end of it.
Anticlimactic ending, but I get cleaned up(mostly), exit the head after dumping my newspaper wrapped, tighty, no longer whitey, drawers in the trash, and book it to the barracks. I run up with everyone already showered and hanging out, gettting ready to go to work, asking where I've been.
"I had to shit."