What Not to Do at a Comp!

What Not To Do at a Comp!!!

Footnote: 1985…with a mischievous smile, my friend Duane mentioned that there were other ways besides training to get lighter and stronger… like laxatives or diuretics. Wow… I read somewhere that you carry about 20 pounds of crap in your intestines…

After months of anticipation the big day arrived. It was around 1991 and Russell, Andrew, and I were going down to Dallas to compete in a climbing competition. It was my first one and I felt very trained and ready. We loaded in the car and breezed down to Dallas.

After unloading our stuff at Russell’s sister's house, where we would spend the night, we went to Albertson’s and looked for PowerBars. They had just came out and we wanted to have some for energy. As I went by the medicine aisle and saw the Exlax, I remembered my little chat with Duane years ago. Hmmm…I laughed and grabbed a box… What could it hurt? Man, I’ll really crank if I’m 10 to 15 pounds lighter!

Out in the parking lot, I told Russell and Andrew my plan. They looked at me like I was crazy. Hmmm…maybe I shouldn’t. Then I decided. Surely a half of one pill wouldn’t hurt. Probably just loosen me up a little. I broke one of the tiny little pills in half and swallowed it.

Next morning, the alarm clock in my head went off on time. I immediately noticed a strange feeling in my gut. I farted…and then wished I hadn’t! I felt that hot searing sensation that only means one thing…I had shit myself. Oh shit, here I am, tucked in this beautiful bed in the guest bedroom, crapping all over myself. A wave of hot stinky air assails my nostrils. Got to get up and get to a bathroom quick!

I jump up and run to the bathroom door. Shit! It’s locked. “I’m in here,” says Andrew from behind the door. This is the worst possible news I could hear as Andrew is a well known “hour long shitter”, he’s been known to completely read the newspaper every morning while sitting on the throne.

Desperately I scurry downstairs to the only other bathroom that I know. It’s a little bathroom right next to the kitchen/dining area. I hunker down and let it go… KACHOONGAAAA. It comes first with a big splash and then keeps coming and coming. All my insides have been turned into brown runny crap. I go through waves of chills and cramps as I desperately try to get through this.

During the next hour, I hear everyone outside the door eating and getting ready. Russell calls to me to see it I’m ready. I groan that I’m sick. “Well hurry up…we’ve got to leave in 5 minutes” he replies.

Flushing the toilet, I make my exit. Everyone (Russell, Andrew, Russell’s sister and her husband) is eating at the table right outside the door! They all make horrible faces and gasp as I slide past them and run up the stairs. I wiggle into my tights and grab my pack. Good thing I packed last night!

Coming back downstairs, I notice that everyone is gone. I find Russell and Andrew out at the car. Throwing my pack in the trunk, I tell them about what has happened. “Do you think you’re done?”, Russell asks. “I sure hope so”, I reply.

Five minutes after pulling away from the curb, I know I’m in trouble again. Pull over quick, I gotta go. Andrew mercifully finds a filling station with a bathroom and pulls in. “Make it fast”, he calls out as I jump out and race inside.

CABOOOMMMISSSHHHH, I go again and again, then hurriedly pull my tights up and sprint to the car.

About ten minutes later we arrive at the gym where the comp is going to be held. The door is locked. I’m starting to feel a little better. Maybe this nightmare is over. Russell and I go on a little run to warm up. At first I’m OK, then I’m definitely NOT OK! I can’t do anything but jump behind some prickly holly bushes and crouch down. Where is this stuff coming from!?

We arrive back at the gym just as the owner is opening the door. While most rush into the gym to eye the routes, I head immediately to the bathroom. I unmercifully dump another load of the foul stuff, clean up as best as I can, and then head out. As I walk away I can hear the moans of the dude who entered the bathroom right after me as he is assailed by the unholy vapors.

The comp gets going and right away Andrew sends the hardest problem. Russell and I know we are in for a fight as we both fall from the final move of this roof problem. It’s a great comp…one of those comps where you just try to do as many routes as you can do and then add up all of the total points.

I am climbing well. I do feel rather light. But I’m also starting to feel a little dehydrated and crampy. I try to drink water when I’m not climbing or shitting.

Some of the routes are bouldering routes, and require close spots. Several times I notice people trying not to gag as they carefully protect my spine. I’m stinky but I’m in the zone. We throw and grab for holds all day long.

End of the day arrives and Andrew wins in a tie breaking final. Russell and I tie for third. We get in the car and head home. I vow to never take an Exlax again.

Postscript: Many years later, Russell let me in on a little family secret. To his family, I will always be known as the shitter! I will never be welcome in any of their houses again. He showed me a picture of his sister on her knees cleaning a toilet. Her dining room toilet. Her husband had rudely snapped a photo of her as she was trying to clean the thing. It was difficult to do as I had actually managed to somehow spray out the sides between the toilet seat and even got the walls!!! It had apparently taken them a few days to notice and it was dried and hard to remove. They ended up replacing the wallpaper. He also mentioned the feather bed… I swear that I didn’t know. In the rush to get done and get to the comp I really hadn’t paid attention to the damage…