I froze my tail off during my run on Sunday.
It was completely unexpected.
The temperature wasn’t even that cold; a balmy 38 degrees with a 5-10 mph breeze.
It is probably kind of funny to some people. Horrifying to others.
A somewhat common thing that gets far too little press.
When I first started out on my run, I was pretty stoked to be out there. I had brand new capris on, (My pre-pregnancy spandex capris are too big?!??) it was beautiful and sunny outside, and, although I was running the hilliest route in town, I planned to run easy. Admittedly, I was a bit nervous about the uphills. Unfortunately, it was the downhills that became my undoing.
Let’s back up a few weeks. When I first started running again back in January, I had some peeing problems. As in, I had to be sure that my bladder was completely empty before running or it would do me the favor of emptying itself along the way. No big deal Kind of a big deal, but fairly common at two weeks postpartum.
Slowly, the problem corrected itself until it was no longer a problem at all. For weeks, I have been having pee-free runs. It is amazing how much one can appreciate something that was once taken for granted. Until Sunday.
The combination of chugging a Powerade Zero before the run and opting to run downhill did not do me any favors.
After ascending for the first half mile, I was excited for the relief of the first small downhill. As I pounded my way down the hill, I felt a warm trickle. I immediately knew what was going on, but assumed that would be the end of it.
I began climbing the next hill and mostly forgot about this little problem. In fact, it did not seem like much of a problem at all until about halfway around my loop where I hit a fairly steady decline. My legs alternately got warm, then really cold as I raced down the hill.
Geez. It was happening. There seemed to be no stopping it unless I walked.
Surely nobody else on the trail could tell.
Or could they? I could look down and see liquid shedding from my pants with each step.
Finally as I began down the last half mile of descent, I felt my shoes getting warm. You’ve got to be kidding me.
Sure enough, even my shoes are soaked. Notice how soaked my legs are in the first photo.
Gross.
When I made it back to my brand new to me car, I was faced with a big decision: Get into it with ridiculously wet pants or risk getting in trouble for driving home without them. I made a quick judgement call.
I stood in the parking lot stripping off my socks and shoes.
Did I mention that it was 38 degrees, feels like 28 degrees?
I took off both of my shirts and placed the thicker one on the seat of the car. As I carefully climbed in, I took care not to put my wet rear end on the seat until the dripping wet pants had been removed. Finally, I took the thinner shirt and placed it over my lap.
As I drove off, I prayed that I would not get pulled over for any reason as I was fairly certain that I could get in trouble for driving home pantless in a sport bra. When I made it home and burst through the door, I’m sure that I must have been quite a sight!
For the record, I broke my rule about shoe washing and dumped those things into the washing machine straight away. They seem fine, no worse for the wear, um, or washing in this case.
Also worth noting, this problem has not reared it’s ugly head again since then. Although, for some reason, I doubt that I am totally in the clear. After all, that would be far too good to be true.
A more serious note: If you are still reading at this point and you are thinking “Gosh, I’m sure glad that I’m not alone.”, I want to drive awareness that there is physical therapy available (beyond the standard advice to do Kegel exercises) to dramatically improve or eliminate this problem. I definitely would not have known about that option if I had not been bold enough to ask my doctor what would happen if my peeing problem persisted. If this happens to me again, you can bet on a follow-up post about anti-leak PT because living in fear of wet running shoes is no way to live!