On the subject of running outfits.

Here’s a topic that sort of came up out of a conversation I had with a colleague who couldn’t see me through all my neon: Running Outfits.

Running, as a sport, is rather devoid of equipment.  What you need is a good pair of running shoes and the rest is just, well, it allows you to do your activity in public.  I would think that it is, to some extent, difficult to market things as a “need” in running.  Sure, wick-away is a wonderful thing (more so if you live amongst the swamp people of the south), but in the end so long as you are putting one foot in front of the other – what does it matter?

Here in the civilized north of the globe it stays dark for about half the year, longer if you are prone to seasonal depression.  So one thing you learn to purchase is a lot of color reflective clothing.  This is usually in pink, orange, yellow, and sometimes green.  The brighter the better.  At first I felt odd running in bright yellow, but now I find myself mildly seething with jealousy at the people who have built-in lights in their jackets, some that even flash.  Why Primark must you NOT include blinking flashing lights in your £17 bike/run jackets?  WHY?

When it’s not miserable, dark, or cold, however, you are allowed to show off a bit of regular color.  I, myself, own red and pink and lime green running kit.  I apparently am the only one who actually does, though, because nearly everyone else runs in black.

I’m a bit perplexed by this, as black to me screams roadkill.  Though I am brave enough to consider this hypothesis:  Runner’s wear black to challenge the bikers and drivers.  “Okay,” says the black running wearer person, “I’ve been good.  I’ve worn my disco flashing super suit for 11 months now, so for the other one you get to find me.”

I honestly cannot tell you the number of people I’ve come into close personal contact with while biking home along these streets.  Once you get close up to them, read that they are – in fact – attending one of the highest institutions of learning in the world (usually they have their college printed on the back of something) you suddenly wonder:  What if?

What if these incredibly smart, passed a million tests and wrote essays in ancient Greek, were challenging us?  We, the state school fellows with our basic Latin?  What if they were trying to say, look harder?  Deeper?  Go into your soul and find yourself?

Or, what if these people had all the brains in the world and zero common sense?

Thing is, it isn’t their fault.  Go look up most running kit and you get two choices: black and HOLYS**T I CANT LOOK AT YOU.  I wonder if the people who spend hours trying to convince you to wear shoes shaped like your feet ask just why all the black?  I mean, black is slimming, but if you’re already sweating profusely with messed hair do you really think it’s going to matter how big your butt looks?

Probably, yes.  I’m a female, I should know this.

But, it still bothers me.  Black to me doesn’t scream: FAST! RACE! ZOOM! GO!  It sorta just sucks all the light in and comes off as rather dull.

But the college name does look pretty good on the back of it.  And I’ve seen those names.  Like, really close up.