Farewell, Old Faithful

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Post-race party in the park

I bought those bright red running shorts exactly 20 years ago at a City Sports in Boston’s Downtown Crossing. They were on sale and fit—the only pair among the discount racks that day to meet my running-purchase criteria.

I wore them often in the summers and early falls and then put them away come winter to get a little more life out of them. That strategy worked well until this morning, when I grabbed them to wear for the annual Scripps Ranch 4thof July race and saw the elastic waistband was shot. 

This should have been my cue to toss them, but we were in a hurry and I wanted to get one more race out of them, if only for sentimental sakes. This is my favorite summer fun run, where many former running friends and neighbors toe the line for the 10k or equally popular 2-mile fun run. And far as I remember, I’d always worn those red shorts to this race.

I had lost my running shorts during the New York City Marathon, creating endless embarrassment and a preoccupation the entire course. This morning I wore a wide Hipster running belt to keep them in place. I’ve gained weight, especially in my midsection, so having something fit so loose just felt weird. And the running belt seemed a good pinch-hitter.

Unlike the marathon, these red Asics shorts held up for the duration of the fun run and afterward for a procession of homecoming hugs and then the post-run parade through my old neighborhood. My friend’s 9 a.m. mimosas were strong and plentiful, and apparently I pulled up the running belt a little too high during a bathroom break. At least that’s what I think happened to explain how I walked around for a good 10 minutes without realizing my shorts were drooping and then, well, dropped.

Yeah, that’s right. I lost my shorts. Again.

Fortunately, I was also wearing the race T that was extra long on me, so only a couple of people standing with me at a front-yard parade party noticed. And they swore to keep it between us.

Obviously, I’m violating my own policy by telling all of you. And I’m actually sad to say good-bye to those faithful running shorts. This happens when I hold on to something for too long. Especially when that something no longer holds on for me.

Ending the parade with a water ballon fight



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