The Lady Bits of the Long-Distance Runner

It was mile 16 of a 20-mile preview run of the upcoming Oakland Marathon. We grabbed pretzels and refilled water in front of the Oakland Marriott at Broadway and 10th, the last water stop before we headed around Lake Merritt for the final four miles.

My friend and I prepared to cross Broadway. As we waited for the light, two business men with New York accents noticed the small crowd of athletes and asked us how far we were running.

“Twenty miles! It’s a prep for the Oakland marathon in three weeks!” we chirped.

“Twenty miles, that’s incredible!” said one of the men. “How long is the marathon?”

“Twenty-six-point-two,” I said.

“Wow. How -- how does that compare -- how long is the New York Marathon?”

“All marathons are 26.2 miles. That’s what a marathon is,” I said, perhaps smugly.

The man seemed flirtatious. And persistent: “Doesn’t it hurt your body? Are your knees holding up?”

“They’re doing OK,” I said. “Well, hers are, mine not so much,” said my friend.

“But doesn’t it make your uterus drop?”

“Uh, what?”

“Doesn’t it make your uterus drop? Someone was telling me running marathons made her uterus drop.”

While I was searching for a comeback and wondering when the light would change, my friend, mother of a grown child, joked, “I’m not planning to use mine.”

“Why aren’t you planning to use it?”

Time to jaywalk, ticket-happy Oakland police or no.

“Ah … you two are on a business trip, aren’t you? I can just tell,” I cracked, starting against the light. “Let’s get going,” I called to my friend.

We got across the street. “Can you believe those guys? God! Business men!”

“I’m so tired, I can’t even tell if that was offensive,” my friend said.

“Of course it was! Uterus dropping? I should have said, ‘Even worse, it really makes your scrotum sag.’” We were laughing and running.

Another group of women caught up with us at the next crosswalk and I told them about the exchange we’d just had with the business men. They all groaned. “Yeah, it makes your penis shrink!” called out one girl. The group laughed.

“Of course! From all the chafing!” I yelled. “Why don’t I ever think of these things in the moment?!”

Like: Dudes. You're in Oakland, not Las Vegas.


Image credit: Uterus Vase by The Plug & Stéphanie Rollin