I think I’ve become a running snob.
Wait, let me back up a bit.
I’ve been running for about a year and a half now and aside from the muscle pain, foot pain, calf pain, general pain, and just the sheer boredom of running on a treadmill, I’m having a marvelous time.
Now, in that year and a half, I’ve collected a set of what I call my ‘running gear.’ This is to differentiate that set of clothes from my ‘gaming gear,’ ‘kung-fu gear,’ and most importantly, my ‘ice-cream coma in front of the TV gear.’
Now, my running gear is a miracle of science. My shirt not only weighs nothing, but it somehow makes the sweat go away. No, I don’t know where it goes, but if Cthulhu awakens and he smells like old feet and bananas, my bad. The shorts are much like the shirt, save that the holes are in different places. My shoes are so light that it’s like strapping bouncy clouds on your feet.
In short, science has created a set of running clothes so advanced that I’ve had to put a note on my door that reads ‘Are we wearing clothes?’ to avoid walking out of the house naked.
NOTE: It used to read ‘Am I wearing clothes,’ but I would read the note and then say “of course not, you’re a note.” Needless to say, there was a lot of screaming at the gym accompanied by the authorities shooting me roughly 28 times with tranquilizer darts. I woke up at the zoo. Yes, I’m that hairy.
Which, to come full circle, is why I’ve become a snob.
I realized this when I came home today and realized I’d forgotten to wash my running gear the night before and thus, had no scientifically advanced, micro-fiber, sweat-eating clothes to wear. I briefly considered simply not running, as to do so without my (possibly) bullet-repellent, odor-eating running gear was inconceivable.
And yes, I do know what the word means.
I then realized I was not getting any fitter just standing around, so I threw on a pair of old shorts and a cotton t-shirt and ‘roughed it’ for the run.
Strangely enough, I completed my run without dying or even losing a limb, so I guess all the pheromone-emitting, non-Euclidian, running gear in the world can’t really replace just doing it.
I did smell like a Tauntaun though. Specifically the bits on the inside.