Last night after our race I was chosen for a doping test from the Canadian Centre for Ethics in Sport. The whizzinator wouldn’t work as they make you lift your shirt to below your breasts and drop your pants to your knees, then watch you pee into a cup.
Supposedly a few years ago a woman had hid a condom filled with urine up her hoo hoo and used it to fill the cup. Now they watch you pee. It was odd.
The kicker is that I then had to take my cup of urine, pour it into two glasses and shake it up. As I did this, it began to spill everywhere. So there I am with my coach and the drug doping guy with pee spilled all over the table. But in the end they gave me a free t-shirt to promote their website. Isn’t that nice?
It’s a good thing that most octegenarians can outrun me, so I’m not the racing type. Otherwise, I’d have to give it up for fear of being tested. I don’t think I could micturate under all that scrutiny.