Twelve years ago I decided to get serious about running. I don’t know if I was spurred on by my then “love interest” or if having a running buddy is what kicked it off, but whatever it was, I was getting serious about running.
In a matter of three years time I managed a few 5, 8 and 10 km races, finshed a 1/2 marathon and participated in a 100 km relay race through the British Columbia Mountains. I liked to think I was serious, I had serious running shoes and serious running apparel.
My eating habits went a little like this: Daily Ice Cream, more Ice Cream, latte’s from Second Cup, more Ice Cream, eggs (the only REAL food in my diet) and more latte’s from Second Cup.
Only my running gear was serious about running. But I finished those races and I managed decent enough times to imagine myself as serious about running.
Then I stopped. I lost interest in my “love interest”, my running buddy moved away and I decided running was making me fat.
Nine years later I really am getting serious about running. I’ve joined a running group and this time I started out with not-so-serious running gear. My apparel was whatever I could dig out of my dresser, my shoes were inexpensive, didn’t support my foot to the point my ankles felt as though they were about to disintegrate if I tried one more kilometre.
And so I gave in and put down what I needed for a new pair of serious running shoes and proper running apparel.
Much and yet little has changed since I was serious about buying serious running gear twelve years ago. Mizuno’s are still my shoe of choice but those Nike pants don’t fit the way they used to and Lululemon (who may or may not have been around twelve years ago) just felt as though they belonged in a yoga studio and not outside. I turned to Under Armour and found new serious running gear that fit, and stayed where it was meant to stay.
This morning I was late arriving for my running group’s 9 am start. Late enough that I spent the first kilometre and a half at an increased pace to catch my group.
Normally I am not busy trying to out-run my typical pace, but this morning I was and as I continued to increase my pace, my pants increasingly felt as though they were sliding down my legs and getting dangerously low on my waist.
What was wrong? Was running making me fat?!!
I choose to ignore the nagging feeling of my pants falling down and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Finishing the run, I congratulated myself on my pace and my time – as good or better than my 20’s – granted in my 20’s I was high on ice cream and latte’s! But no matter – I still had it.
I walked over to a rock to stretch out my calves. That’s when I noticed. My pants were inside out. The nice warm fuzz that was supposed to be keeping my legs warm was on the outside, enjoying the cool breeze. The shiny protective layer was on the inside rubbing up against my skin, pulling my pants down with each stride.
I love my running pants – when they are right side in and running is not making me fat!