Running While Wearing Pants

Running a 5K while wearing pants on a hazy, hot, & humid 4th of July morning at 9 a.m., I sure was. And the sun would've been good & hot. Wear the screen (as I wrote about here). 'Twas the Firecracker 4th of July 5K run/walk, a neighborhood race. Thousands of participants enter it these days.

I grew up participating in the event as a high schooler, back when only many, many hundreds entered. Participating in cross county each Fall as the school year began, then swinging the school year into indoor track, which ran (no pun intended!) from the end of the calendar year up until the outdoor track season began as the seasons of the year changed with it, & then back again into our unofficial summer "maintenance" time, the neighborhood 5K, equidistant to the distance we ran when we competed during the cross country season, made for an excellent friendly see & wave "competition" among all of us who attended. The course is an out & back along a commercial/residential street very nearby our school, yet also linking our "area" with the next school over as well as parts of the city. We knew who typically ran at what pace, & about where we'd see them on the turn around; it was fun. I thought so, at least. I'd be at the back of the pack, so I knew I'd see each of them before I reached the turning cone (an orange construction cone) where the veterans attending in uniform (before the afterward parade) would be lined up, almost as if to say, "Don't try to run past us. You'd be off the course if you did." Some runners would salute them as they rounded the turn-around cone.

Later on, a decade or so further along in life, I lived somewhat "down the street" from a block's worth of the course. Something in me decided to walk up the hill & watch the 5K - just to see if I did still know anyone participating. Well, I did go up & check it out; low & behold I knew a runner or two. Well, there were a few, though that wasn't the real reason why I carried on as I did for the next year. Something inside of me really felt like, "Yes, I can do this! I can make this happen again for myself! I can really enjoy this!" And so I did.

I prepped myself the whole next year. And by the "whole next year" I mean, well, a small portion of it. This wasn't an actual marathon, or anything like that, after all. I was employed by an accounting firm at the time. For all y'all who aren't informed, that means we're super-duper busy with all sorts of wackiness clear through 'til mid-April, sometimes a little bit longer (depending on the size of the accounting firm, that is). So, simply as a release that year, I began running.

Remember I'm the slow, snail-like runner. And "beginning to run" still didn't mean all that much, though it was drastic for me at the time. I ran a mile a day. Clear through from mid-April 'til the month punched out for the year. Then the two mile treks began. This was all fun along the ol' high school rubber patch; just rounding the oval shaped track. At some point in early-to-mid May I realized that it only made sense that I increase to three miles come June. After all, I had complete intentions of running (with ease) a 5K, which is three miles, plus "point one". Or, as some might say, "point freaking one"; this might illustrate better.

So I began running the actual course each morning before my workday began starting on June 1, knowing that for the next 33 days this would be my "thing". And so it was. On workdays I'd drive up the hill (to cut down on lost before & after time), clasp my keys into my hand's palm, & go.

On the other days I'd walk/warm-up by "hiking" up the hill, which may have been a mile from my house to where I'd give-go to running form, thus I'd get a bit more distance & save from the whole start-the-car-back-it-up-drive-a-bit-put-it-in-park parade I bothered with on weekday mornings. This plan also worked well, because, once I finished up with the regular course work & turned off the main street, headed down the hill toward my house, I was free. To fly. I could just go. Relax into knowing of my accomplishment. It certainly worked out well.

It was kinda fun on one of the weekday running mornings. Since I'd typically be out-&-about at the same, within five to ten minutes of the same time, I'd run past the same cars; the same groups of people. And the main street, where the course ran, happened to be a thoroughfare for the local public transportation. Numerous downtown workers would stand waiting on their morning commute to arrive & see me go. They probably thought about which pair of running pants I'd picked to wear that day (most of mine were of the same design [so, in this case, not of the writings of this post] & only varied by solid color). Honestly, I'd never even considered these people as I passed on by (we'd be across the street from one another; I didn't literally run in front of them). Though on this particularly glorious morning, I did happen to hear one of the ladies say, in a dreamy-like fashion, almost along with the breeze, "There she goes..."

*****

Boom. I wore the pants. I couldn't bring myself to run in shorts (they're just not my style or comfort) & these weren't "a thing" back then. I'd happened to have plenty of flexible pants where the fabric was thin enough to not be super uncomfortable (quite the contrary!, I was rather comfortable indeed!), so I wore them instead of concerning myself with awkward, unwearable-by-me,  shorts. These. These are, what I'd think to be, a modern day version of what I'd worn at the time, to stand in as & for a light weight, comfortable pant. Though what I wore had a wide ankle, which I particularly liked.

It was a hazy, hot, & humid morning, just as is typical of our first days of July. I wore the pants. Mom had chatted with a few people who'd been at the event, or at least gearing up for the parade that followed it. She laughed & giggled sharing of how she'd said to them, "If you saw the girl who was wearing pants, you saw her." I'd been the only one daring to be wearing pants on such a day as this - & no one else was.

Yep. I looked around at the start & a few times throughout the beginning, shortly after the start gun was shot. These had just become a "thing" & they were the hit of the crowd that day; no pants though. Not a one.

No fear though. My middle name was Security that day. I epitomized it in every aspect as I'd been running the exact course as my run for quite some time. I knew what I was doing. I knew the out-&-back nature of the course from when I'd run it during high school. I'd learned where each cross street was along the main drag & knew, from that street name, just how far I'd run, & how far I'd left to go.

I ran it. I ran the course. And I had a blast doing so. I knew a bunch of people & waved to everyone I could. I put my heart & soul into the event &, well, the biggest backlash I didn't see coming was not having a plan for the following day.

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