There's a lot of reasons not to laugh during a marathon. I mean, you are, for no really good reason, forcing your body to run, like, a really really really long way. This race is not, on its face, a funny thing. But, when you have my brain and my mouth (what filter??) things downright amusing for a lot of those miles.
Right at the start of the race, there was a glorious down hill. This was not a huge crowd of racers so there was a lot of space to spread out from the get go. But... because of the down hill I was not 100% sure what pace I should be going. (I eventually went with the "I feel like I could do this forever" as a place holder).
So, I weaved in and out of people for the first couple of miles and found a pretty comfortable speed. Then... I saw It. This woman ahead of me was wearing a pair of running shorts with a pocket in the back... right at the small of her back. This pocket is made to hold gels and keys or whatever.
Her pocket was full.
To give her credit, this race had very little in the way of aid at the water stations. It was literally just water and Gatorade, so everyone really needed to carry their own supplements or count on a buddy to be out there handing the stuff to them.
She was weighed down.
Really weighed down.
Not an exact copy of the offending shorts, but close.And with every footfall, her shorts flapped up and down... revealing her, uh, crevice. So my eyes are drawn to this spot and it's all I can look at. Where normally your brain goes "clip-clop-clip-clop-clip-clop" as you run, in this case my brain was saying "butt-crack-butt-crack-butt-crack" for a few hundred yards. Hilarious, yes... but wicked distracting. I couldn't not look, so I had to pass her. I DID manage NOT to say anything to the other people around me, which I think shows real growth on my part.
I guess I made the right move, since I finished feeling, for all intents and purposes, pretty good and I certainly can't complain about my time.