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Cold wash, hot rinse

It was pouring on Friday night, but I went for my run after work anyway. What I thought was just a steady light rain turned into a heavy downpour. I generally don't mind running in rain, but this was splashing-through-ankle-deep-puddles, man-my-hands-are-cold, I-wonder-if-those-cars-can-really-see-me rain. The kind of rain that sends the tourists at Fisherman's Wharf shrieking and running for shelter with no regard for traffic. Morons.

My clothes were sopping wet and at one point I glanced down toward my feet and saw something startling. A froth of white suds was gathering between my thighs. This is something I have read about happening to other runners, runners who use too much laundry detergent when they wash their workout clothes. I never, ever expected it to happen to me. The combination of tons of water and, er, friction had reactivated the residual detergent in my running tights and, to put it un-delicately, my crotch was foaming. (That'll light up my google referrers for sure.)

I cut my run short due to embarrassment (who am I kidding, very few things embarrass me, ask my cycling buddies about me peeing on the side of the road) and because my hands were so cold and stiff that I could hardly flex my fingers.

I had planned to swim after my run -- and by the way, it is very hard to get a swimsuit on over soaking-wet skin -- so I got into the pool and WHOAH! It felt like a hot tub. No joke. The water felt (and perhaps was) ten or twenty degrees warmer than my skin. I swam a few lengths and then stopped to ask the lifeguards if the water temperature was higher than normal. No, they said, it was actually two degrees cooler than normal, and one of them dipped his toe in just to make sure. I was sweating. HOT TUB.

It's just as well, because the real hot tub was swarming with teenagers enjoying the Y's Friday Night Jams!. The lifeguards repeatedly had to remind the kids to observe the max occupancy sign over the whirlpool, and they seemed to be having a lively discussion about whether sticking one's foot in the hot tub constituted occupying it. There was no way I was going in there. I showered and gathered up my dripping-wet clothes and shoes and headed home. And as soon as I stepped outside, the rain stopped, the sky cleared, and I could see the moon shining brightly overhead.

April 10, 2006 4:54 PM