It usually takes only one run a year to remind me that I can't, no matter how long or short, do any sort of run in the morning without hitting the bathroom before I go out. Today was that run.
The body has a funny way of adapting to doing things at a certain time of day, each and every day. It does not like to be out of it's normal rhythm of things. It likes to show the brain once in a while who's really in charge.
I was in a hurry to get a little thirty minute jaunt in before the kids went to school. Out for fifteen minutes I went, planning to turn around then and head back. At the turn I realized I may have gone about five minutes too long. Wasn't sure if I'd make it home. Lots of bushes nearby but they were mostly in people's front yards.
If I slowed down a bit, the feeling subsided somewhat but meant it would take longer to get home and there was something that wasn't going to wait that long. The faster I ran produced more jostling and bouncing and made that "something" want to happen that much sooner. It was a predicament. This isn't one of those "mind over matter" or "push through the pain" moments, this was an occurance that was going to happen whether I liked it or not.
Needless to say I made it home but it was close. Very close. Did I mention it was close?