Old "Number One", or in laymen's term--"peeing", appears to be more of a psychological phenomenon than a physical one.

This I learned from my recent experience at the 1999 San Francisco Chronicle Marathon. Throughout my training for the marathon, I consumed between 2-3 gallons of water per day, depending on my workout for the day. Never in my 15 years of running have I jumped into the bushes during a run to pay homage to Number One, or its close cousin Number Two. To "hold it in" builds character, I've always thought. Only a few seconds after the start of the marathon, my character was put to one of the biggest challenges a marathoner can experience.

Number One and I hit it off quite well during the half hour before the start; Number One  finally departed about 5 minutes before the start. However, only a few seconds after the gun went off, I felt a gentle wave ripple across my bladder. Running for about a minute, I was torn, with that old Clash song screaming through my head--"Should I stay, or should I go? Baby, you've got to let me know. Should I stay or should I go?"

This was my first marathon after knee surgery and my immediate goal was only to make sure I could still go the entire distance without the knee swelling up like it did the previous year at the now infamous inaugural RockNRoll Marathon. My finishing time was not going to be an issue on this day--at least not yet, anyway. So, with this in mind, and with Number One calling me from a nearby bush, I jumped behind the shrubbery and eagerly awaited---5 seconds, 7 seconds, 10 seconds……anytime now…….15 seconds…….tinkle…….tinkle. "Hmm. That was unproductive." At the time, I made nothing of this false alarm and merged back into the back of the pack, arriving at the first mile at a really, really pathetic 9 minutes.

By mile 3, coming out of the Presidio and into the Marina, the knee was performing like clockwork, my pace was picking up quite nicely, and Number One was somewhere further back wreaking havoc on the bladders of some other unfortunate souls….Wearing my cherished Cal Aggie t-shirt, I hear the enthusiastic chants of spectators lining the course--"Woohoo! Go UC Davis! Go Aggies!" My eyes swelled up for a brief second, and then I felt a surge go through my legs. By mile 5, I realized I was on pace to qualify for the Boston Marathon. Consequently, the remainder of the run was essentially a refresher course in 4^th grade arithmetic for me, with calculations running through my head as I tried to determine just exactly how slowly I could run the remaining miles and yet still qualify for Boston, while making sure my knee made it to the finish all in one piece.

This is really an article about peeing, not running, so I will just cut to the chase now. I'm sure someone else in this newsletter is giving just coverage to the marathon……

By the 25^th mile, my legs were dead and I had given up hope for qualifying for Boston. It was all uphill coming off the Great Highway and into Golden Gate Park to the finish. Passing the buffalo paddocks, with about 3/4 of a mile left, I'm feeling much like a buffalo too. But then with only half a mile left, spectators begin lining the course and again I hear music to my ears, "Go UC Davis! Go Aggies! Woohoo!" I figured, if you can't qualify for Boston, you might as well look good when you finish. As we all know, but seldom like to admit, it's really not how you feel that's important. It's how you look. This is no less applicable to running--as it is to our daily lives, of course. (This bit of wisdom, from Fernando's Hideaway, circa 1985 SNL.)…..Anyway, so with about 100 meters left, I'm squinting at the clock ahead to see how much I'm going to miss Boston by, but what does it read?……3:09 and thirty something seconds!! After running 26 miles, I've got less than 30 seconds to run a hundred meters to qualify for Boston 2000. At this point, am I concerned about looking good for the camera man at the finish? Hardly, though I did make sure to crack a grin for the camera after crossing the finish in 3:09:54….only 6 measly seconds under the qualifying time for Boston.