By Christopher Cudworth

Sure, we take our running and riding seriously. Yet the obvious reason we also run and ride is to have some fun, enjoy some laughs and look back with fondness on unexpected things that happen. Some of those situations seems like a tragedy at first, turning to laughter only when people stand back and gain perspective on the situation. Here are some true anecdotes that might inspire you to find humor in your own running and riding.

One Shoe Down

Be it tarsnakes, clay or quicksand, you never know what might trip you up on a run.

In Southeastern Pennsylvania where the soil is mostly clay and trails through the woods quickly turn to glue when it rains, there is much to be said for a nimble stride.

While training with a club of fellows out for a long Sunday run, our route took us through a section of horse trails near Wayne, Pa. As the trail bottomed out, the clay got slicker and the footing underneath was difficult. Most of us ran splay-legged using firmer ground on both sides of the foot-wide path. But the lead runner, not taking a cue from the rest of us who were humbling ourselves and losing pace every step, kept trying to stomp through the mud. Finally his right foot plunged deep into a bed of wet clay. He immediately came to a sucking halt and using considerable force yanked his foot out of the ground only to find that his shoe was no longer secured to his foot. He stood over the hole in the ground, staring down in amazement at first.  The rest of us gathered round to take a look with him, and a couple people wondered what to do.

Wanting to help, I reached down and shoved my arm into the foot-deep hole. It was like shoving my hand up the backend of a cow and the hole was slowly closing, to boot. Grasping the shoe as best I could in a firm grip, I pulled like mad, but it only moved a couple inches, then sucked back down into the ground with a sound like a muddy fart. I burst into laughter but no one else found it funny. I continued trying to extricate the shoe, keeping my head down and stifling laughter all the while. For several minutes I yanked and pulled to get the shoe out but it was no use. Finally someone gave a small laugh and said, “Well, now what?” Our lead runner stood there with one muddy sock and one shoe on. “Screw it,” he said. He took off the other shoe and threw it into the woods. Ran home the rest of the way in his Thor-Lo socks. That made him a true minimalist runner, but not on purpose. Fortunately he was the owner of the shoe store that sponsored our team, so the shoe loss was not a tragedy. But it wasn’t quite comedy either. That’s one of the tarsnakes of training and competition. Tragedy + time = comedy.

Frozen Junk

On a subzero day our large group had a 10 mile training run scheduled. Everyone was bundled up for the effort. Rushing to join the group from other commitments, one of our group forgot to wear his windproof shorts. Heading north into the freezing grip of an Alberta Clipper, we felt the cold like never before and our running partner was soon moaning about the freezing conditions “down below.” He was wearing mittens of course, but it didn’t help much when he shoved one down those front of his trunks and tried running that way.

Reaching true survival mode, he stuck the mitten back into his running jacket and shoved a warm hand down the front of his pants. “I have to hold on to my crank or it’s gonna freeze and fall off,” he yelled.

We all sympathized, and several guys offered what they could in terms of extra clothing to stave off frostbite on his unit, but he was most confident in the comfort and safety of his own hand. Even running with “one hand,” as it were, he still completed the 10-miler in just over 60:00 and ran straight to the showers. The warm water was little comfort at first, but he stayed in the shower for close to 20 minutes trying to warm up his vitals. The situation wasn’t funny at the moment. We all knew he really could have gotten frostbite. The humor in the sight of him running with one hand down his pants only showed up later as we recounted the run over a warm meal.

What Are the Odds?

On a bright, clear spring morning our weekend ride decided to do a 70 mile loop that took us far out in the country. At around 35 miles, the left pedal on my bike began to wobble and shimmy underfoot. Looking down, it was evident the pedal had worked itself backwards out of the thread. That’s not supposed to happen.

I shouted to the head of the group to let them know there was a mechanical problem. Actually, I had taken the bike for a tuneup two days before and had not had a chance to ride the bike before the weekend ride. The mechanic had obviously done something wrong. Now we were 30 miles from the nearest bike shop and I could only groan, “Man, the dude who worked on my bike at the shop must not have tightened the pedals right…”

One of our group came circling back to where I stood straddled over the bike. “No worries,” he said.  “I’ve got a pedal wrench in my jersey.”

“You have a pedal wrench in your jersey?” one of our fellow riders panned. “What are the odds?” he laughed. “What else do you have in there? Extra cranks? A set of brakes? I mean, WTF dude?”

He laughed and sure enough, pulled out the pedal wrench and set to fixing the problem. He confessed, “I’ve had a pedal acting up on me lately so I don’t go anywhere without this puppy,” he laughed. Upon finishing up he looked up and smiled. “Let me know if it gets loose again. But I’d also take it back to the shop and have them fix it, or ask for a refund. They owe you one.”

I did just that, and the mechanic was pretty chagrined. He admitted rushing the job a bit. But that meant I took the bike to another shop the next time it needed a good tuneup. I suck at that stuff. But the odds were not good trying my luck again with the same mechanic. Tragedy sometimes equals comedy, but you don’t have to let the same joke happen over again.