Today I ran.
The windblown rain pelting El Rancho Pendejo woke both of us around 3 a.m., and conditions had improved only marginally several hours later, after a couple cups of mud and a light breakfast.
So I had a little more breakfast, and then a mug of tea. Next I wasted time in various time-tested, time-wasting ways. And finally a bit of blue cut through the gray and boom! Off I went, like a white-whiskered rat out of an aqueduct, for a not-very-quick 5K on the foothills trails.
Though the sun shone the Outside Hyperactive Currency Furnace’s PR people would not have made hay with me. My running garb was trés unhip by Boulder standards, light on iconic brands, the polar opposite of au courant.
There were the well-used Merrell Moab Flight ground-pounders. Ancient, saggy, and pilled Head shorts and tights. An equally elderly Hind base layer. Smartwool liner gloves. The Sugoi tuque. Some Rudy Project shades from three prescriptions ago because I’m too lazy to change lenses to match the lighting conditions.
Anyway, I’ve seen enough. Haven’t you?
The marquee bits were a 3-year-old pair of Darn Tough wool socks and a 6-year-old, fire-engine-red, long-sleeved Gore Power Thermo cycling jersey, which is only so-so for cold-weather cycling but does quite nicely as a running top in the 40s and slightly below. Its three pockets are perfect for stashing the iPhone and any bits of kit I might decide to remove or add en route.
That it makes me look like a cyclist who has mislaid his bike is of no consequence. Nobody asked you to look at me, especially Outside, which has a business to run, even if only into the ground. I don’t even look at me. From inside my head I look exactly like a young Davis Phinney, or perhaps Michael Creed. To preserve this fiction I shave in the dark without using a mirror and in public avert my eyes when passing any reflective surface.
I prefer not to be empowered; I am unplugged, possibly unhinged. Anyone building community may leave me outside the wire.
I run because I can. Because I like it. Because shoes are easier to clean than a bike.
Mad Blog Media 
I loved running more than cycling, a long time member of Auckland Jogging Club, apparently the oldest jogging club in the world, Bill Bowman came to NZ & ran with with our founder.
Sadly, my knees are so fucked, I struggle to even cycle any more.
Bum knees. The curse of the runner and the cyclist. I’m glad I came to running later in life — I think I may have delayed the inevitable a bit. As my old teammate and swimming rival Dr. Schenkenstein used to quip, “We all end up in the pool.”
His wife recently had an ankle replacement. I didn’t even know they could do that. I’m holding out for a full clone. Get it all done at once.
Unfortunately to use the local indoor pools during the winter you need to rent a room at that hotel, at $100/night.
Oof. That’s a bit steep. And one wonders how closely a hotel’s overworked and underpaid staff monitors the health of its pool.
Now and then I think about getting back into swimming. I was on a swim team at Randolph AFB, and a couple more in Bibleburg, before I finally gave it up after my first quarter at Adams State in Alamosa. Then I’d pick it up again here and there at some fitness club or YMCA.
But the pools are always crowded and noisy, unless you can squeeze in at an odd hour. You shower before and after and in between you’re marinating in this broth of who knows what, which is hell on the skin, eyes, mucus membranes, and hair (if any). SInus and ear infections are not uncommon, along with athlete’s foot. You’re dragging a gym bag of wet gear around everywhere and you smell like a car wash.
And nobody needs to see a 70-year-old dude in a Speedo. It is the stuff of nightmares.
Good on you for the run. I did a little running during our recent snow. I live up the street from a running track surrounded by several acres of land, so with the snow still on the ground I like to go out and make mine own circuitous semi-sinuous path in the crusty snow around the track. The snow and uneven terrain are a great challenge for my balance development. I love the element of doing a marginal half twist in stride to keep the old body going forward. My apparel for such events would fit your criteria with the point that most of it exceeds the age of yours’. Shoes: 6 to 7 years; tights: 23 years; polypro shirt: 35 years; running shorts: 10 years. The socks, gloves and outer t-shirt are in the 2 to 4 year age. But my mention of the age of gear parallels what you and other commenters have been saying, just run ! As long as one is not out pounding down a road for a lot of miles, a little soft ground trail running doesn’t take much, and from a time standpoint, you can get an equivalent workout in shorter time.
With that said, the sun has been clearing a path through the clouds in our area lately and said mentioned snow has been melting enough for me to get the bike out today. It’s many days since I’ve rolled up the driveway. I don’t recall how many years it has been since I’ve missed as many riding days. But we all go through our times. Funny, it’s been so many days that when I got back and dressed down, I looked over and realized that I’d left without a pump or CO2 inflator. Hmmm. That would have been a bummer.
I hated running when I was a teenager. I was swimming a ton of miles a day and either cycling or walking to school and didn’t see the point of slogging around the Mitchell High School track during P.E. But I appreciate its simplicity now, especially while traveling or during stretches of evil weather. As Herself says, “We can do anything for a half hour.”
Outside of maybe the Jersey Turnpike, Michigan is legendary for road potholes opening up and swallowing the non-vigilant this time of year. Oh boy are the tire and wheel shops gonna make bank this month. No matter what route I drive into town I have to pick my way carefully, usually with some dipshit tailgating me in a behemoth pickup. Pledged to run more errands via bike once the snow/salt is gone for good, I’ll have a tough time holding any kind of straight line near the shoulder. I’m getting a total beater bike out of storage to sacrifice to the Pothole Demons. If I can just keep the fillings in my teeth…
Sounds like our trail system. The folks who insist on riding wet trails have made a real mess of the Elena Gallegos, carving ruts that will still be there come summertime. The roads are OK, kinda, sorta, and the state has swept the worst of the cinders and salt off Tramway, so that’s a bustling hive of velo-activity again. Mostly I’ve been riding either the Soma Saga (canti edition) or Soma Double Cross because both have an insanely broad gear range, plump tires, and fenders.
So well written it made me think you should write a column for Outside!
Then I thought you’re wise enough to, paraphrasing Groucho Marx, not be a member of any magazine that would want you as an employee.
Thanks, matey. Outside and I came to a parting of the ways after they sent me a boilerplate contract the size of the Beijing Yellow Pages and I edited it down to a few salient grafs and returned it. That was the end of our “negotiations” over whether I would continue to draw my “Shop Talk” strip for Bicycle Retailer and Industry News. I’d played contractual ping-pong with vulture capitalists before and you need four hands clutching paddles the size of a pizza peel to stay in the game. Doesn’t leave much time or desire to do The Work.
It was time I went away in any event. I’d done the VeloNews thing since 1989 and BRAIN since 1992. If there was any loose change waiting to be scooped up it was someone else’s turn. Mustn’t be greedy, y’know.
You sound like my role model, Patrick. I still X-C ski in old bike tights and a Stony Brook Univ. bicycling jacket I bought in grad school. Pretty much everything in all of my kit is old, almost as old as me, but still works just fine. And at my age, given I like keeping things around for a few decades, it almost makes no sense to go all fashion plate. Not that I ever did.
I used to love to run, but when I used to run I weighed about 145 lbs on a 35 year old frame. At 160 lbs, it hurts the old knees. I should try trail running though, as running on pavement results in days of Advil.
It’s definitely possible to overthink this stuff. I used to be a fiend for the latest and greatest bike gear, but lately I seem to ride 32-pound steel touring bikes with fat tires and fenders, or Frankenbikes that would have Hieronymus Bosch going all like, “Ooo, cool bike.” I replace bib shorts fairly regularly (mid-price Voler) but everything else is nearly as old as I am. Some of my Paddygucci is so old it was made in America.
I hear you. I’m still rocking some Protogs actual wool stuff I bought in the eighties when I was out on Lawn Guyland.
Seems like most hobbies go that way. Archery, kites, and bikes all took me on a deep dive for the latest and greatest stuff, including the never ending accesories. But, I always ended up loving the older or “vintage” stuff. Settled on recurve bows for instinctive shooting, single line big delta and parafoil kites, and vintage guitar models like my Gibson L-00 or Martin 00-15m. One exception is my Rainsong carbon fiber composite guitar which sports space age materials but simple care and maintenance. Once I found what worked for me in cycling, I stuck with it. That search took some time and many lost dollars buying stuff retail and selling it wholesale.