I was halfway across the Queensboro Bridge when a not-so-unfamiliar feeling hit me: I had to take a shit. I was 1.5 miles into my run, and I had emptied the tank just before I left my apartment. As I ...

Diarrhea. It’s bad enough trying to spell it, never mind trying to cope with it while running. If you’ve ever had the unfortunate experience of getting rather too close to nature while frantically ...