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Challenge of the Month VIII
Running. You are (or your character is) running from something. Or running to something. Or maybe you just left the faucet running. The theme this month is running. Fiction or non-fiction, poetry or Prose. $100 purse to our favorite entry. Outstanding entries will be shared with our publishing partners.
ginailles
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Nature Calls

In other news, a middle-aged woman took a shit in Canyon Park this morning. I am that middle-aged woman.

It was my usual Friday ritual. Not the shit. Going for a run with my dog in the lovely swath of nature that is Canyon Park. I was about half a mile from my house when it hit. An intense, sweat inducing, sensation in the nether regions. I can usually use the mind-over-matter technique, but no amount of mental jiu-jitsu was helping me get past the urgency of the turtle head poking out.

This attack happened where I leave the neighborhood and head into the wilderness. It just so happens I know someone who lives right there. She is the kind of friend I connect with only when I bump into her. Not the kind of friend whose door I can knock on at 7am and then race into her bathroom to take a massive dump. I toyed with the idea of intruding on her morning when suddenly there was reprieve. That spectacularly sweet absence of pressure. I was saved! I could continue my run with the dog. Several minutes later surrounded by the silence of trees bathed in the golden glow of morning light I broke out into a cold sweat.

I ducked quickly down into a ravine. Trampling through the overgrowth I looked for a hidden spot with a bald patch to lower my butt. Time was against me so the reconnaissance was brief. I pulled down my shorts and released. The dog tilted her head and watched this oddly reversed scenario. As I looked at her I realized I could use one of the doggie poop bags to pick up my waste and dispose of it. It was a calming thought. That simple act would make this whole episode civilized. I used a leaf to wipe, stood up and pulled my shorts on. Gloriously empty. Overwhelmed with joy and love for a perfect universe. I had the poop bag in my hand and turned to pick up. Nope. I couldn’t do it. It was huge! Our dog is small so I had imagined a one-handed grab-and-go but this was most definitely not that. I just left it there. Feeling slightly guilty but marvelously light I continued running without a care in the world.

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