I yearn to be clean and tidy. But, clean and tidy is a gift I don't have. Maybe I will develop it one day, but I doubt it.
If you spend most of your hours running, recovering from running, or preparing to run, things can get messy. Things can get dirty. Chaos can rule.
Filthy socks are strewn on the floor of my car. Empty bottles of coconut water roll around in the backseat. Dirt is a constant bedfellow.
Random bags of flour for marking trails roll around haphazardly in the trunk. Nubs of chalk bang around in my cup holders. Used sanitizing wipes float around among the detritus.
Sweat stained shirts lie on the floor. Mud caked shoes hang out near the front door. Used GU packets are in every pocket.
My car is a pungent melange of eclectic odors. It's a potent mix of sweat, dirt, and spilled beverages. There may even be a faint hint of brownie brittle or somersault snacks.
This is on a good day. On a bad day, it is a maelstrom of messiness. It is a symphony of stank.
I could be embarrassed by this mess. I should be ashamed. Sometimes I am.
But, I have long since come to the realization that all of the aforementioned accoutrement is just part of being a runner.
Running gets dirty. It gets messy. It can get ugly. It can even get bloody sometimes.
If you're a fan of clean and tidy, you probably aren't a runner. Running will disappoint you. It will introduce chaos.
But, it will also introduce fitness. It will introduce confidence. It will introduce transcendence.
Being neat and tidy is great, but if running provides the aforementioned on the regular, I can live with being a slob.
I run because I am a filthy mess....