If it makes you laugh or inspires you-that's great. If it confuses you-that's probably normal. If it puts you to sleep-don't read it (especially while driving or operating heavy machinery)...it is more a personal outlet for myself, in a far from serious, light hearted format. I'm not going out of my way to promote this, nor am I raising money. Posts may come three times a week or three times a season. If a byproduct of you reading this is D-grade entertainment, then forget about your other forms of D-grade entertainment (old colouring-in books, Yo Ho Diablo's and Britney Spears CDs) and feel free to subscribe, share or stop by every once in awhile.

Saturday 2 November 2013

The time I ended up naked on the side of the road while out for a run

I’m sorry for the visuals so early on. I know the side of the road isn’t always the most eye-catching or pleasant thing to visualise but, to share the story properly all details must be shared.

I’ll set the scene…picture a typical Sydney stinking hot and dry Sunday in mid-January with the temperatures well into the 30s. Most people would be happy going to the beach, or watching the cricket inside their air-conditioned house. Although I spent a lot of time at work, as it was BridgeClimb’s peak season, our Melbourne to Sydney Run concept was about two months old, and I was increasing training, month by month. In my days off between work and general summer shenanigans I managed over 250kms in training in January.

Perhaps one of more peculiar of those kilometres was about to take place on this day though.

I had planned a 30km run from Heathcote to Cronulla and back to Sutherland. I threw a $10 note in my pocket in case of emergency (emergency being code word for food, and food being code word for Maccas), put my earphones in my ears, grabbed a water bottle for the road and headed out.

All was going well, and after 7kms, getting past Engadine, instead of running on the shoulder of the Princes Hwy, I had the slightly nicer option of stepping up off the road and following a neat little dirt trail, flanked by gum trees on either side, but still only a few metres off the road, running parallel to it for about a kilometre. Any excuse to get an extra few metres gap between myself and from the cars zipping by at 90kph sounded like the safer choice, or so I thought…

With a new visual stimulus in the form of the gum trees, I didn’t happen to notice that a little further down this narrow track there would be a thick Orb Weaved spider’s web stretching from tree to tree right across the track, about five feet in the air. Needless to say, within seconds of crashing through the web, strands covering my face, neck and chest, I began flailing, grabbing at my face with my free hand trying my best to get the sticky web off me while continuing to run. Looking down to inspect my shirt, I noticed the spider on my chest, who seemed to be making its way up to my neck. The flailing quickly turned to swatting, which turned into pure panic and with my focus having to be split between staying upright on my ever-running feet or flicking this big spider as far as possible, I guess the fact that I absolutely wiped out and ended up lying on my back in the dirt (with the spider now nowhere to be seen) means that I chose the latter. That was the safer choice, or so I thought…

I’ve taken a tumble a few times during my running days. And as old clumsy Grandpa style as that sentence sounds, I guess the more you run, the more chance you have of falling, and although I’ll generally be up on my feet within a matter of 10 seconds or so, you’re a bit rattled, you want to dust yourself off and check that everything is alright before getting up. That was the safer choice, or so I thought…

As I lay there, within about two seconds my body told my brain that the ground beneath me wasn’t flat, and that I was lying on a distinct and rather large mound. Within about five seconds, my body told my brain that my skin was tingling. Within about 8 seconds, as I lifted my neck and checked myself out, my eyes told my brain “ummm…body is a freaking moron, we’re lying on an ant hill and that tingling sensation is us being covered in hundreds of red ants!!!!”

“SSSSSS**********@@@@@@@TTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!”

As I freaked out and jumped quickly to my feet, the ants freaked out and just starting biting at whatever this fleshy thing was they were now aboard (I can’t actually confirm if the ants were in fact “freaking out” as their facial expressions are so tiny and I couldn’t tell, and I had other important things to worry about…maybe they were just having a bad day or were hungry? I haven’t consulted National Geographic on this but I’m guessing them freaking out is the most logical explanation).

The pain from each bite was INTENSE! And the worst part was they were biting me EVERYWHERE! It was unlike any other hurt I’ve experienced before. REM thought they had it right when they sung “Everybody Hurts”. No. That’s not true. It should have been called “You haven’t felt hurt until you have hundreds of red ants covering your body biting the crap out of you”. A catchier title, and more scientifically accurate.

I didn’t know whether to run, to stand still or to jump up and down like a maniac. And to be honest, with my brain going at 100mph I wouldn’t be able to recall just which one I did. Although looking back at the comical GPS data (below) you can be the judge yourself.

In any case, simply flicking the ants wasn’t working-they wouldn’t budge-their vice-like pincers were so big and had such a good grip flicking them just seemed to enrage them more. I had to literally squeeze them one by one to eradicate each one. Seeing that I was losing this battle, I decided the best way to get rid of a good number of these six legged demons was to whip my shirt off. Without hesitation I threw it as far as I could. I continued bouncing around in pain, battling away, just a few metres from the road, now shirtless. Before too long I had most of my arms and upper body cleared. The battle was swinging in my favour until all of a sudden and with the worst bite of all, the immediate thought in my brain was “HOLY HELL THAT ONE BIT MY NUT!”

The profanities yelled that day were countless, but at this stage, none of that really mattered. All that really mattered was that my privates were becoming a red ant buffet and that is what I would happily classify as “not cool”. Just as my shirt had been whipped away, off came my running shorts. The fact that the shorts have built-in underwear meant that I was now completely butt naked (minus the running shoes) jumping up and down, trying to kill each of these little critters. As cars whizzed by, I’m sure that the majority of them kept their eyes on the road and had a normal, pleasant day without seeing any strangers in the nude in their peripheral vision by the gum tress. Unfortunately I know for a fact that at least two people didn’t have their eyes on the road when a series of gleeful honks came my way as they passed my sorry naked butt.

After five minutes of pure mayhem, once I had rid myself of every single last one of those damn red ants, I had to wander over to my shorts, and decided before putting them back on to inspect each and every square inch of the fabric, so I didn’t get any nasty surprises when I put them back on. I’m not sure which would have been stranger sight to a passing car- seeing a naked man jumping up and down as if he is doing a tribal dance, or seeing a naked man lifting and inspecting running shorts so closely like he was some Neanderthal who had never seen clothes before.

After inspecting my shirt, and pulling countless ants from it, I put that back on safely, and then had to find my Ipod which had been flicked away in the trauma, and my water bottle which was a good ten metres down the track. My emergency ten dollars was nowhere to found and I deemed it a causality. The next person to find that 10 bucks will have no idea how it escaped my possession, and I doubt they will want to.

I continued the run, stepping down off the track and back onto the road. Cars flying by me at 90 kph seemed like a better alternative to what had just happened. That was the safer choice, and this time I knew it.

That night was spent Googling remedies for ant bite pain, as my lower back in particular was peppered in bites and when turning up for work the following day, I had to be put on “light duties” for two days because I couldn’t wear my climb belt! I guess the ants and spider combo won this round!

I guess the moral to the story is “don’t jump to conclusions about naked men jumping up and down like a constipated gorilla on the side of the road”. A good life motto for anyone, and would be even catchier as an REM song title.
 
The GPS data showing me "freaking out" rather than running in a straight line. Bloody ants


 
Pretty evident to tell where I fell victim to the oldest trick in the book-the ol' "spider web/ant mound" one-two punch.
 
 
Orb Weavers-not so bad when they are on you. Definitely bad when they are on you


 If still saying no to animal cruelty when one of these are biting you in the nads, you need to give your head a shake

 

No comments:

Post a Comment