Take off the rose-colored glasses

My train of thought while running recently:

"This is perfect weather for running — I won't overheat with temps in the 40s. ...

"I'm so glad that cold air doesn't hurt my lungs like other people complain about. ...

"Man, I love how clean the fall air feels. ...

"Too bad the leaves are gone, though — WAIT WHAT IS THAT SMELL?"

For the second time in two damp days, I had encountered an intensely musty odor, like a whole pile of wet towels, on the run. (No, it wasn't my clothing. That would've been a consistent stink, instead of an ambush.)

It had to be all the leaves that weren't on the trees, glowing in the sunset, and that weren't delightfully dry and crunchy underfoot anymore. Welcome to November, where they rot in clumps along the sidewalk.

I found drier land after going on the Jordan Creek Trail and especially through Knolls Park, and grew misty-eyed again.

"Done with hills. Flat final mile FTW! ...

"Wow, I'm really close to being done, and I feel good still! ...

"That soup is gonna taste so good. Can't wait to shower first. ...

"LOL, goose droppings. ...

"There's more? OK, well, pretend it's an agility exercise ...

"I just vacuumed, better watch my step. ...

"Seriously? Is this a minefield or a sidewalk?"

It was a dangerous effort, weaving around dropping upon dropping in still-slightly-damp conditions. I am happy to report my shoes survived unscathed, but my inclination to call geese cute, unfortunately, did not. It may recover; I can't say for sure.

(But seriously, I enjoyed the run. My sense of smell may be keener than other folks', and this is just a drawback to my powerful sniffer, and wildlife dung is never not funny.)

The aroma of an athlete

You know sometimes iPods/iTunes' shuffle setting/radios (for those of us who still use them, i.e., not the Class of 2016) can sense your mood and play the right song for you?

A few days ago, I discovered that my Google Reader, or the bloggers who populate it, is the same way.

During my return run in Des Moines, I was looking forward not just to running in my new home, but also to wearing clean workout gear while doing so — I'd washed up two full sets of gears during my "vacation" in my hometown.

TANGENT ALERT: I'm not sure whether this is a personal quirk or a commonality to athletes, but washing workout clothes makes me so conflicted.

Mine definitely demand to be washed, don't get me wrong. During this summer especially. I've noticed the scent (to be delicate) of prior workouts when I pull my shirts on, and, frighteningly, I've also smelled the current workout as I'm standing still, such as at a stoplight.

I don't take any weird pleasure in noticing how stinky my running clothes are, so I wash them, but always with the gloomy, Eeyore-like thought that soon enough, they'll be nasty again. Or, that I might grow irrationally protective of their cleanliness and not work out in them, because they're clean.

In conclusion, I overanalyze laundry.

END TANGENT, RETURN TO POINT: On Monday, I pulled on one of those fresh-and-clean T-shirts ... and my smile faded to a grimace. I could still smell sweat on the shirt!

My devoted runner friend Shayne had mentioned this happening. And apparently, so had the women at Another Mother Runner. Their Tell Me Tuesday question from last week had been about how to get the stink out of running clothes, and the responses were posted the same day I noticed my clothing issue.

I may try the soaking recommendation. I also might try the line-dry-outdoors one. But I know I'll try the quit-caring-about-it suggestion. Hey, if other runners are proudly sporting the evidence of their effort, why should I worry? It's a workout, not a beauty pageant.

The runner's tolerance

Most running comedy can be lumped into a few categories:

* Boy, you and your body sure do gross things when you run!

* Boy, I sure hear "You run? Why would you do such a thing?" an awful lot from nonrunners.

* Boy, I sure make my friends and family jump through a lot of hoops to accommodate my gross/weird hobby! (see the previous two bullet points)

I experience the first point, sadly, very often (and very publicly ... sorry if I've overshared with you). And I've inflicted the second and third – the former, in the past; the latter, more recently — on others.

In the past week, one of those roles got to be reversed, twice. Is it karma repaying me, or is it an opportunity to show off how tolerant I am of other runners? You be the judge. Probably depending on whether my running has inconvenienced you.

Dusty, my little buddy, has almost nothing to do with running, but he's such a handsome guy that I wanted to show him off!

Two Mondays ago, co-worker and cat-sitter Emily stopped by to meet her feline charge. I told her that anytime after 7:30 p.m. was fine, and that she could just text when she was en route — there was no need to have our secretaries book appointments.

Around 7 that night, I received a text, which I'm paraphrasing because this morning's six-miler is sinking in, causing me to sink into the couch far from my phone: "I'm heading out for a run around Gray's Lake, and then I'll be over. Sorry if I'm stinky."

Even though I pride myself on my keen sense of smell, I was unconcerned about the idea of a sweaty guest. It's not like I haven't pulled a similar stunt, and without warning.

And come to think of it, if I didn't notice anything amiss during Emily's post-run visit, does that mean I'm not smellable from miles away after a run? Let us hope.

Then came yesterday, when blog guest star extraordinaire Ashlee flexed her new running muscles (figuratively and literally, though I wasn't witness to any literal flexing).

We were planning our Restaurant Week excursion, and Ashlee asked that we make reservations for 8 p.m. to allow for her gym visit. Because I suspected — correctly — that it was Color Run training and not swimming or ballroom dancing, I agreed (kidding! I support cross training!).

But at 7 p.m., the phone rang: Ashlee had worked out and cleaned up and was ready to enjoy Splash Seafood Bar & Grill a little earlier than anticipated. Delay dinner to allow for running? No problem. Move dinner back up? Even less of a problem.

I'd like to think I would've been just as tolerant even before I was running ... after all, my nonrunning friends seem to have been. But at least now I know I'm no hypocrite in this area of life!