Washing my Yoga Pants on a Run

On Wednesday I ran eight hilly miles with a friend at 6AM in the cold rain.  It was raining, dark and 40 degrees when we started.   When I first saw her, I laughed and wondered what we were doing out when most were resting from the previous day's Christmas festivities.  The first half of the run was better than expected, except when the road curved, and the wind hit us with a surprisingly cold gust.

My friend and I parted ways at around four miles when she ventured farther to make hers a 10 miler.  It was then that the light ran turned into a downpour.  I wondered how she could keep running in the other direction and away from the warmth of our homes.  The first half of our course has more uphills, so making the way home, downhill, is more pleasant  -- except for on this morning.

I've been running for just over six years, and I don't think I've experienced such miserable running conditions.  I have run in the rain.  I don't balk at that, but this was cold, cold rain.  A drenching rain.  My pants stuck to my legs, and I felt like I was carrying extra pounds of water.  I had worn my running jacket designed for temperatures under 40 degrees; it is water resistant, but not waterproof.  I don't run in these types of conditions enough to justify purchasing waterproof outerwear.

On my return trip home, I thought that this is a treadmill type of morning.  If I had to, I would run eight miles on a treadmill.  I do not own a treadmill.  I don't think I would want to unless I lived in a colder climate.  My house doesn't have room for such a large piece of equipment, and I have a Y membership.  I can run on a treadmill at the Y, but it was closed for the Christmas Holiday.

Distracted by my Garmin and still running in the dark (and alone at this point), I made a wrong turn and ran about 200 meters in the wrong direction. I was soaked, cold and lost.   I stood disoriented wondering what to do and hoped I could retrace my steps and and get back on track.  This was at 5.5 miles.  My momentum was gone.  I wanted to stop and be home. I tried to find humor in it all.

Early morning runs during the Christmas Season have bright points.  I caught Santa at this house.

I was short on mileage at the end, so I ran back out and found myself running toward my training partner.  We couldn't believe the turn the weather had taken.  She said that all she could do was laugh about such a miserable run.  I felt the same way.  As we parted, she pointed out that I had soap bubbles on my pants.  Yes, soap bubbles.  My knees were foaming as if I were in a washing machine.  She laughed and laughed.  And, I did, too.  This was a first.  We laughed some more as we stopped to take a picture of my pants.  I was foaming in other areas that were touching my skin.  Bizarre.  When I made it home I realized that I had mistaken my yoga pants for my running pants. That's a first, too.  And, I hope it's my last run for a while in the cold rain.

It's hard not to find humor all along this run.