Running Tip #1

When you are about to enter a Porta-john, don't cram your cell phone and brand new Punisher skull cap into the shallow side pocket of your Adidas track jacket...

I walked in and locked the door behind me and looking at my options, remembered that some runners are women and turning to the left to use the urinal, heard a faint... ploop. And knew, instantly, what had just shot out of my pocket and into the commode.

I loved that phone but I really loved that hat. It was bad ass. It made me look a little like that biker Opie on Sons of Anarchy. I love Sons of Anarchy.

I knew it was gone.

I looked down the hole black watery hole and my sad little phone cast in blue commode water, lit up under as if to cry out, help me. And everyone has asked me if I reached in to get it out and to that I've said no. Who would do that and why.

Sadly, I would. Just for a few panicked moments, I clung to the idea things would be alright. I could dry it. Use Julia's rice bag idea to get every last bit of moisture out of it, maybe even use that sanitary spray Pola has in the kitchen for spray the germs off our counter tops. All my pictures, notes for stories, phone numbers...

Now to my credit once I realized the phone's state, I let it slip back into the stinky depths - its hand out stretch, its fingertips straining toward life as oblivion wrapped it into the great goodnight...

Okay, that's horseshit but you get the point. It was a big sad moment for me. And worse, the day hadn't even started so there was a race to watch and friends to cheer on and the inevitable photos to be taken where everyone would be all open and smiling and, as usual, I would look like a real tool, arms cross and scowling.