As course designer for the Detroit Free Press/Flagstar Bank
Marathon, the number-one question I receive from runners
is, "Where will the porta-johns be located?" Finding a place
to take care of one's personal needs is always a big
concern. Years ago, New Orleans Mardi Gras Marathon organizers
underestimated the number of porta-johns needed near the
start line. Runners, including myself, tried to find every
nearby hiding place to relieve themselves.
The police chief spotted me and asked, "What would you do
if your sister was standing here?" I replied, "Doing what I
need to do." One runner was arrested for indecent
exposure. Others surrounded the squad car demanding the
officer let him out.
As I stood and watched, I overheard the chief say this race
would never come back to his jurisdiction. It never did.
For last year's Free Press Marathon, race coordinator
Dennis Handley set up 30 porta-johns. For some reason,
runners only stood in line for the first 15; the others weren't
used despite volunteers urging runners to line up farther
down.
The New York City Marathon has to resort to different
measures to accommodate 20,000-plus runners who
gather on Staten Island for the start. As part of the race's
elite group for several years, I recall being escorted to the
start past what was billed as the word's longest urinal.
Some of the foreign elites were surprised to see so many
runners, men and women, openly taking care of business.
Runners have many tales about Mother Nature's urgency.
Handley recalls sitting in an outhouse after the Cherry
Festival Run in Traverse City, only to have the floor collapse.
He ended up in ankle-deep in doo-doo. Fellow runners
nicknamed him "Stinky" and, at a campfire that evening,
burned his clothes.
Northville's Mike Webster is well known for missing race
starts due to doo-doo duties. During one Boston Marathon,
he had to convince boisterous spectators to let him pass
through them to a porta-john. They thought he was quitting
and did not want to let him through. As he came back onto
the course, the crowd gave him thunderous applause.
When Mike re-entered the race, runners near him shared
hearty laughter about his plight.
I remember one woman who voiced concern to me that she
never had to go to the bathroom before a race. When I
asked why that was a problem, she said she was afraid she
would need to go while on the course.
I told her two things. One, that most marathons had
bathrooms out on the course; and two, that maybe she
wasn't nervous enough before the start.
She found me after the race and exclaimed with glee that
she'd been able to relieve herself before starting. I laughed
so hard over her excitement I had to run off to the bathroom.
Columnist Doug Kurtis, who holds world records with 40
marathon wins and 76 sub-2:20 marathons, is privy to many
stories. He may be contacted at
dkurtis@peoplepc.com. MR