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My feet were tired, my knees were locking up but I had to continue...
Wow! what a feeling, I told myself. If I kept the same pace for just a tad bit longer, I would have accomplished something I was never able to do in my entire lifetime.

I was just two laps away from running my five mile run in a record time of forty minutes.

However, I began to feel a common sensation in my lower stomach. A feeling that would always put me to inner shame on the threadmill at the gym. I had to fart very very bad. I was faced with a dilemma, fart and risk others to my side hearing and smelling the oder, or suck it up like a man but experience horrible abdominal pains.

My decision was simple, I decided my anus was skilled enough to silently distribute the fart. Also, if there was any type of smell I only had two laps left before I was done and gone. I clinched my ass cheeks and let out the painful fart. However, to my suprise it was anything but the gassy oder I know so well.

I had just shit myself.

I started panicing. What do I do now?!?! Suddenly, every sports legends image popped into my head. Jordan, Ali, Montana, Gretzky (sp?) I knew what I had to do.

I ran two more laps with shit smeared across my ass and underwear.

That, ladies and gentlemen IS determination.

I hate you all.