In seven years of running I have never quite had the experience I did this morning. I was eager to do two laps around the lake for 12 miles including some 2-mile tempo pace repeats. I had done the warm up and the first two of three tempo segments when I found myself back at the head of my neighborhood ready to begin lap two. All of a sudden there wasn't a bathroom close enough for my comfort and the possible revulsion of my neighbors. I stopped immediately and walked in a tempo of a completely different variety back to the house where utter embarrassment was avoided. I felt absolutely great except for that undeniable need.
I am suspicous of the yogurt I ate for breakfast. What do you think?
I quit running at six miles, knowing I could do a bunch more. Maybe I'll add a few extra miles tomorrow.