Phew, glad that’s over with

I’m cleaning out my closet. Among the dustballs, I scrabbled up a small blue duffel. At one time, it held my competition kit—racing shoes and a few things to handle the usual pre- and post-race issues. Over the years, it’s become running-related dead storage: My college singlet; the heavy, old fashioned (even in 1969), and unattractive sweats they let me keep because they’d finally gotten new ones during my senior year; a singlet from the Charlottesville Track Club, which I wore in most of my post-college racing; no fewer than three pairs of SportHills of much later date; one of those ancient, scratchy Helly-Hansen polypro turtlenecks, red with the dashes up the arms, certainly older than my daughter; a pair of folding scissors; a cotton “good luck” turtleneck, now more holes than fabric, that I remember buying at The Indian Shop in Hanover in 1965; a give-away visor from an event long, long ago, and some partial rolls of adhesive tape.

I’m sentimentally attached to the uniform stuff. The folding scissors still cut. Good luck is hard to find. I think H and/or A might be able to use the SportHills. The Helly-Hanson goes in the local clothes box. I can’t make up my mind about the visor. But I’m ruthlessly disposing of the 30-year-old tape.