highly scientific experiments conducted while running

Our Sunday 12-sometimes-13-miler was only 10 today. Myriad discomforts and injuries had us walking on a couple occasions, and we walked the last mile, so we’re calling it 10.

I had the pleasure of conducting several highly scientific experiments today (mile markers are estimates):

Mile 3: the “snot viscosity experiment”
After repeatedly sniffling and wiping my dripping nose, I decide it’s time to see what happens if I do nothing. The drip of snot slung from my nose, swinging and nearly hitting me in the face, until it reached my knees, at which point it finally snapped.

Mile 5: the “reaction to german shepard stimulus”
When faced with a large black charging german shepard, Deb begins singing “10 Little Ducks.” I mutter gently “keep running, keep running” (a la Dory from Nemo). Said shepard leaves his yard to accompany us for a few miles, is christened “Dumbass” because he cannot stay out from under our feet AND charges passing cars.

Mile 7: the “big hill experiment”
I ran this experiment to see which got me up the hill with less agony: if I was the talker, or if I was the listener. Apparently, if I am the talker, I get up the hill with less agony. This might sound like it contradicts common sense (as in, talking would detract from my breathing, etc); however, today DEB talked up the entire hill, I felt like I was going to die and she crested the top saying something that sounded like “oh, that’s getting easier” or some crazy bullshit like that.

Mile 8: the “what’s Dumbass’s *real* name experiment”
(AKA how will Deb and I react to a strange vehicle slowing down next to us)
Driver: Hey! Kaiser!

Deb [to me]: Do we ignore him?

Me [to Deb]: Sure.

Driver: Kaiser, come!

Me [to Deb]: Why would you name your dog after a sandwich roll?

Mile 10: the “snot viscosity experiment, iteration 2”
Apparently after 7 miles, the tenacity with which snot will swing from one’s nose is is much different than it is at mile 3. Thicker? It hung only to my chin, and then proceeded to swing pendulously, at which point the swing was interrupted by my cheek.

For those purists among you, I will posit here that I believe narrative to be a highly scientific method. Seriously. So no cheap shots at the method.