Sunday Whatever – “M” T-shirts No Longer Fit Me to a T by Elliot Wilner

Two of the drawers in my bedroom dresser are packed full with colorful T-shirts,  about fifty T-shirts in total, and I cherish them all.  Each shirt tells a story: the date and the distance of a particular road race – an 8k, a 10k or a 10 miler – that I had once run, together with the names and logos of the race sponsors.  Of the fifty shirts, about forty have found eternal repose in my dresser drawers, never removed from the drawer, never worn.  Those are the ones labeled with a “M.”  The other ten, those labeled with an “L,” I do wear on occasion.     

I took up running in my late 40s, motivated by a desire to lose the twenty-five pounds of excess weight that had accumulated over the years.  A game of tennis once or twice weekly wasn’t doing it.  So, inspired by the example of a friend who was an avid runner, I began to train for a 10k race.  Back then, you paid your ten dollars, you were assigned a number, and you were presented with a “free” T-shirt.  At the venue for my maiden race, the volunteer who was dispensing the T-shirts suggested, helpfully, that I might wish to select an “L”-sized shirt.  Her candid estimate was correct: I did need an “L.”  I wish she had also warned me that I might not yet be ready for a 10k race, because I died during the last 2k of that event — though I did manage, somehow, to wobble across the finish line, way back in the pack.

That initial race, grueling though it was, whetted my appetite for more.  That year I registered for a few more 8k and 10k races, always opting for an “L” T-shirt.  By the end of the year, I was training religiously, six days per week, year-round, for a cumulative 35 or 40 miles per week, and I began to shed those excess pounds.  Soon, I graduated to running 10 mile races, and I even began training for a marathon. From then on, whenever I registered for a race, I would proudly request an “M”-sized shirt.  The “M” shirts soon crowded out the “L” shirts in my dresser drawers.

I had to quit road running in my early 60s, because of creaky knees, and soon the excess weight came back.  But I still visit those dresser drawers from time to time and gaze longingly at my classic collection of “M”-sized T-shirts.  I wistfully recall that I was once an “M”.   Now my knees will tolerate only a 4k walk each day, and I am reconciled to being an “L” for ever more.  Yes, I do miss the road races and the daily training runs, and yes, I am a little bit envious of the runners who fly past me as I walk — but hey! now it’s their time.  And I had a good “M” run, didn’t I?

Elliot Wilner

Image: A Pot pourii of coloured petals, leaves and seeds from Pixabay.com

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