weirdest combination of food you ate post run because you were starving

Potatoe chips dipped in mayonnaise

Kimchee

hard 22 mile run with some runner friendsI drank the rest of a friend's warm mountain dew that was sitting in the trunk of his car because i needed carbos, then drove 15 minutes home and ate pastries, hard-boiled eggs (2), roasted beets/carrots, a chunk of cheese, and a handful of smoked salmon.then i showered and made a chocolate protein smoothie and a package of gnocchi and took a nap.My wife had made brunch with her friends and I realized they were staring at me while i pigged out in the kitchen, shirtless and with my face covered in my sweat saltworst smelling gas of my life when i woke up, but no soreness the next day!

runner3246724878 wrote:

weirdest combination of food you ate post run because you were starving?

Sometimes I understand the reasons for PNSO.

clif bar with mustard... i sh*t you not

newly opened mind wrote:

Sometimes I understand the reasons for PNSO.

+1

Hit the nail on the head.

newly opened mind wrote:

Sometimes I understand the reasons for PNSO.

What does PNSO mean?

Post Nuption Shut Off

nuptial

Not really weird, but I ate some taco bell before a run a few weeks ago. In only three miles, I threw up three times before finally reaching home.

Warm apple juice and a bag of cashews.

Yes, you know the results.

I grew up in Northeast Ohio and around there, exists a place called Quaker Steak & Lube. They have the most ungodly spicy hotwings ever created by man. You literally have to sign a disclaimer before you are served them, because they can easily blister your mouth when you eat them. Me, being the hardass that I am, happily sign the waiver and proceed to chomp down 6 of these wings. I get my name up on the wall for having done it, and leave the place in pain, but feeling proud.

The next morning I decide to go for my morning 5 mile run along Mayfield Rd. (some of you in the cleveland area may know where this is). Its a well traveled area, lots of cars most of the day driving along. Residences with front lawns, trees etc.... your typical suburban setting. Well I get the familiar gotta sh*t real bad stirring in my abdomen about halfway into the run, and its an out and back run, so I'm not that close to home. It didn't seem too bad initially so I just kept running, and thought I'd make it just fine. Well those nuclear hotwings from the night before had a different idea. I swear the next tenth of a mile was out of a science fiction movie. The wings moved through me like a f***ing bullet train through the Chunnel and I knew I wasn't going to make it. I stop to walk, and look for a place to hide and let loose, but the particular area I was in just had houses with big front lawns and no particular landscaping. At this point, the alien in my a*s was sprinting for the finish line, and it was so bad, I couldn't even move, lest I shit myself right there on the sidewalk in front of a hundred soccer moms sipping their morning lattes. I shuffle step onto the lawn of a particular house in a feeble attempt to make it to the bushes directly in front of their house, but it was too late. Feeling the overspiced rocket of mud in my a*s about to burst forth, I quickly and frantically pull down my running shorts to clear the path. I was about a half second too slow, as I do this the sh*t blows out of my a*s, into my shorts which are now around my ankles, all over my hands, running watch, and forearms, and some onto the front lawn of this house.

So here I am, 9am, people driving by, slowing down, honking with a shocked and disgusted look on their face.....and I'm standing in the middle of someone's front lawn with nothing on me except my sh*t riddled running shorts.

Thank god I had a t-shirt on that morning because it was my only saving grace. I leave the shorts in the middle of the lawn, take off my t-shirt so that I'm now standing completely butt a*s naked in front of probably a hundred commuters as I wipe my liquid sh*t off my own hands and arms with my t-shirt. Now, I have to get home. So I tie the sh*t stained t-shirt around myself like a loincloth from hell, and f***ing TAKE OFF. I swear to god I ran the last two miles back home faster than Daniel Komen on cocaine.

I didn't bother to return to the house later to clean up the little present I left in the dead center of their yard, I was WAY too embarrassed. I didn't run that route for about a month afterwards. I don't know if all that qualifies as immature or not, but there really was nothing I could do. Thankfully I live a far far way from there now, and I will never eat those godawful wings at Quaker Steak and Lube again.

he/she will love you for who you are.if PNSO or whatever it is actually is a real thing and happen, things are very serious. it's not just one person's faulti think you're an idiot for even bringing it uploser

newly opened mind wrote:

Sometimes I understand the reasons for PNSO.

you mad, brah?

Great story. Compelling and rich.

This story kills me every time I hear it. Well done, to whoever wrote it.

makes me eating cereal and potatoe chips after a run seem weak af, you sir, are a hero.

Laughing at work wrote:

Great story. Compelling and rich.

Redolent with detail.

olives and peanut butter