Nowhere To Run!

So my first wife ran a local 10k road race today.

She runs a little bit, but has never before gone that long - 6.21371192 miles.

AND, making it even more difficult, we were *out* last night.

Before she was about to leave she articulated her primary fear to me.

You see, when Mrs. C-Nut goes running, it activates the *terminal stages* of her digestive system. In fact, there was a particular ice cream shop in Brooklyn Heights near the end of her *loop* that she often had to go barreling into!

Me? I never have any scat issues. I go when I want, with plenty of warning, and in a matter of a minute or so. No back-ups, no gushers, etc. I need not coffee, reading material, or any other catalysts.

I scolded my dear wife and suggested she *take care* of her needs beforehand. We are on our way out of town, but still an *accident* of this nature amidst 1,700 neighborly participants could be ruinous. To my chagrin, she pushed back, declaring absolute powerlessness in that department.

In a last ditch effort to convey the seriousness of the risk she was taking....I ushered her over to my computer and made her behold the pic of that poor fellow above.