Caught in the clutches of my butt

Recently I participated and finished in the Surf-n-Santa 10-miler and was so emotional and ecstatic at the end that I wept. The fact that I ran for 10 miles without stopping was so huge for me because six months ago I could barely do three miles without gasping for air as I reached for my water bottle and took bites of air in between every slurp of the mighty fluid.

But there was a huge obstacle during the 10 mile run, it was one that I was mainly to blame for and that was that I decided to wear underwear underneath my snug running tights. Ugh. Newbie mistake.

Even before the race as I walked from my car to the convention center I began to fight the urge to reach behind and do a little sleight of hand, perhaps pretending to snatch something off my butt, then gently smoothing out the fabric or my usual go-to move: walking with “swagger,” carefully taking one leg out further, loosely wiggling it a little before I take my next step and hoping that it unbunches my underwear. This technique is not guaranteed as I mostly always have to resort to picking really quick then wiggling my lower half to guarantee success.

So for the duration of the run I struggled. My pace was fine but my butt was screaming, begging for me to free it of its misery. At one point I wanted to take them off in a portable restroom but I couldn’t just discard them like a piece of trash, they were one of my favorite underwears!

I think I focused more on how uncomfortable I felt with them riding up than I did on how tired I was, which I suppose was okay. By the time I reached mile 9 my eyes welled up with tears, I had just one more mile to go and then I could sneak away to a restroom and pull out my underwear, freeing them from the clutches of my butt.

That’s when I bolted. I ran so hard and fast that by the time I reached the finish line, I was gasping for air but I made it to the end. I finished. My husband and daughter were waiting at the finish line off to the side and when my name was called out as a finisher and the moment I spotted them in the crowd was enough to make me forget my underwear were still bunched.

Several runners I’ve spoken to tell me they ditch their unmentionables and go commando. Any suggestions? I have tried going without and from what I remember, is that I don’t remember being uncomfortable but more often than not, I run with undergarments and it doesn’t pose a problem.

Well, for the next long run I will make sure not to make the same mistake and hope for a better PR time!

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