For as many social situations there are, there are probably equal or more than the number of unwritten rules, or exceptions to those rules. The locker room is one such “social” situation. I use quotes because, really? Is the locker room social? I mean, one of the unwritten rules is, Thine Mouth Shalt Remain Silent And Not Initiate Conversation With Another Dood When He Is Neked.

Others would follow along that same vein. Thou Shalt Not Stare At Another Dood’s Junk. Thou Shalt Not Bend Over And Put Your Nether Region In Another Dood’s Face. Thou Shalt Never Sit On A Bench Neked Without A Towel Under Your Rump. You know, common neked guy courtesy. And then there’s some like, Thine Body Shalt Be Dry Before Entering The Changing Area, or Thou shalt Be Patient When Other Doods Are Blocking Access To Your Locker, and alternately, Thou Shalt Hurry The Eff Up When Thou Art Blocking Access To Some Other Dood’s Locker.

But then there are the unwritten rules that have unwritten exceptions or unwritten allowed violation.

Like peeing in the shower. The unwritten rule is, Thou Shalt Not Pee In The Gym Shower. But, we all do it. I mean, sometimes you walk into the shower, start to lather and realize, “Oh! There’s no stopping this!” And there just isn’t time to rinse and make beeline for the head. Plus, you’d have to dry off so you don’t drip your way all the way there and back. It just happens. But, even though we all do it, there is still the unwritten rule to deal with. We’ll go to lengths to try and hit the drain out of common courtesy, and we’ll do our best to hide the fact that we’re peeing by letting the water run off our member in a way to hide the stream. God forbid you’re dehydrated and the stream is dark enough to give you away! But, usually we’re able to mask it and avoid being the Pee Pariah of the gym and having to shamefully make that drive across town to the other gym where they HAVEN’T caught you peeing in the shower…yet.

And over the years we perfect the process, and peeing in the shower becomes a common thing, and we think nothing of the violation, masking our streams with savant like skill.

Until the day you forget you had a massive meal of asparagus the night before…

A few years back I suffered a tough injury after a milestone race that resulted in me dropping off the face of the ultrarunning and athlete blogging scene. For near two years after that injury, I continued to wrestle with nagging physical problems and the larger issue of losing my identity. I was a runner, but I was no longer a runner. The psychological impact of that whole process was real and very hard to deal with. Not only did I feel like I’d lost a part of my identity, but I also felt like I had lost my community. I was no longer a part of those cherished long runs. I was no longer part of the pre-dawn ritual of headlamp trail running. I was no longer a part of my social circle. And, when I stopped blogging about training, racing, and just outdoor adventures in general, I felt like I’d lost my internet athlete community as well. Again, those are tough things to process and inevitably left me feeling quite alone.

Fast forward to this past year and I entered into a new stage in my life, one that included being a single father, walking through the ugly world of divorce, the loss of family support, and the loss of my final social circle: the church. Essentially, I ended up feeling quite alone. I had my son and my new partner and that was what remained of my community. It was at that point that members of my athletic community began to come out of the woodwork and offer support. This time, it wasn’t virtual cheering or live blogging of races that I was receiving, but instead it was personal encouragement without strings attached and without judgment. One after another, they began checking in on me, reaffirming the relationships and reminding me of my value to them. They re-established my community. They resurfaced as my peeps. They re-filled my mug of awesome.

The thing I realized about this community was that with them, I had always been myself. Out on the trails, I didn’t wear a mask. During a race, I didn’t wear a mask. When I was killing myself on a track workout, I didn’t wear a mask. These people saw ME. And I was real with this community. It started out as a community of people with a common interest, but by being an honest human being with them, letting them be part of my success and failure, they became more than just community, they became my tribe. And when shit hit the fan, it was that tribe that survived the test of fire and was left standing. Not my neighbors. Not my church. Not my family.

So I compare my community of athletes with those other communities that I have lost and I recognize that my lack of personal honesty with them is why they didn’t survive. Maybe those communities should not have been ones I should have invested in in the first place, but that’s a moot point now. But I do see it is a two way street, you MUST invest in the community and be real with them or find out in the long run that it was a superficial community at best.

So, to my community of athletes, those of you who I spent countless hours with on the trails, those of you who I raced with, those of you who supported me in person and virtually, those of you who I have met in person and those who are still just a person behind a wall of electrons, thank you. Thank you for being my people and for being there when I needed you most.

And, to those of you lacking a community, invest yourself. Your REAL self. Without that honesty in your life, you’ll find yourself, after a trial by fire, burnt.