​​Specifically, cramming 23 running t-shirts, seven pairs of running shorts, and four triathlon tights into a standard wooden drawer had overwhelmed its capacity. Like six-foot-tall Dracula attempting to slumber in a three-foot coffin, the overstuffed crypt was bursting at the seams. A few shirts were jutting over the edge gasping for air… “Please, no more, my arm holes are smashed together into a small ball,” one shirt whimpered as I passed by.

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Like with most overuse problems, there was no logical reason. But runners are sometimes illogical… well, let’s be honest, most times.

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The drawer has five other friends in the chest with lots of extra space, not to mention a closet close-by and a garage with some unused plastic storage cases. Cramming was unnecessary. I could have divided the running stuff among its fellow drawer brothers. And, really who needs 23 shirts at the ready, anyway. I do laundry at least two times a week, and I wear a half dozen of the shirts 98% of the time. Some of the ones on the bottom haven’t seen sunlight in years.

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But athletes are known for kooky routines, even when it comes to our gear. We treat our garb like a high school clique.

A bold color, cool logo (like our Pirates on the Run scowling pirate head or menacing Evergreen Pumpkin Run Jack-O-lantern), or special race (Gate River Run) keeps you on the weekly running T-shirt schedule.

 

Digging IN

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I was thinking of all those jumbled running shirts recently as I was getting ready to put a freshly washed batch into the troubled drawer. So, I took the drawer off its runners, placed it onto the bed and started counting just to see how many shirts are jammed into the standard 30 x 16 x 6-inch space.

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It was an archeological mission with some on the bottom that hadn’t been worn in nearly a decade. I felt like Indiana Jones blowing the loose dirt off relics as I reached deep and rediscovered the white 2017 Pirates on the Run shirt among others. “Hey, this one doesn’t look too bad”, I thought to myself as I pulled it to the side for first team, top-of-heap reassignment.

As I counted shirts, and recounted events, my heart rate increased as if I was in the race again. It doesn’t take much to raise our blood pressure and put us into competitive mode.

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Ironically, this emotional impact does not translate into garment special treatment.

Very rarely are the tees folded (unless my wife Emilie is involved). If I drip pizza sauce or splatter grill grease on one, so what. I’ve even used a running tee to dab knee and hand blood after tumbles (yuck, I hate it when that happens). Simply, toss it into the dirty clothes and replace with one of the 22 others. And I can tell you from experience that blood easily comes out of Dri-Fits; and you never have to worry about wrinkles, even when they’re squeezed together.

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Also, the shirts are great conversation starters. If I wear one to the grocery store or coffee shop, it seems someone will relate to the logo, race; or give the proverbial “I used to run, but…blah, blah, blah…”

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Again, we are creatures of habit.

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I remember one AIR member who wore the same race-day hat for over 10 years. Even though the brim’s fabric had worn away, the back Velcro was long gone, and it looked like he had picked it up from a mud puddle on the side of the road, he insisted on wearing that hat for good luck.

 

Tribal Rivalry

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For me, it has nothing to do with luck, but more like disassociation… a separation between running gear and conventional society clothing. The running stuff cannot collide with the Levi’s, Izod’s and Lands End’s. Though illogical, it would be like the fresh lettuce crawling out of the crisper to intermingle with the bad boy beverage shelf, or the baking soda seeking bleach for some canoodling… kaboom.

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Workout stuff has its place, the tea and crumpet clothes have theirs… fraternizing is not allowed… coexisting okay, touching, no way.

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However, I keep another stack of shirts hidden away in the depths of the hall closet. Those are the ones that have never been worn because of yucky colors, material, or insignificant events. Obviously, I could throw away or donate more than half of the tees and still never have to worry about a clean one.

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But it’s hard to part with them. It feels like you’re throwing away all the miles and miles that allowed you to earn them. Thus, even though I moan and complain, my drawer will likely stay injured because those shirts are staying put.

And following the next race, No. 24 will be added to the pile.

 

Bill Pennington has been writing sports columns, features, and articles for over 40 years. He was a sportswriter/columnist for the Savannah News-Press, and a contributing writer for the Atlanta Constitution, Florida Times-Union, Fernandina Beach News-Leader, Fernandina Observer, and Mort Crim Radio Network. He is a winner of the Road Runners of America Club Writer of the Year as well as an Associated Press and Georgia Sportswriter columnist award. He has competed in over 300 road races, cycling events and triathlons.

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As members of the Amelia Island Runners, Bill and his wife Emilie have lived in Fernandina Beach/Jacksonville for over 30 years.