Sport has a discipline that receives very little recognition.
Laundry.
You can finish training, put everything away and feel that you have completed something.
The laundry disagrees.
It has been quietly expanding while you were busy becoming fitter.
A top, leggings, socks, a towel. Repeat often enough and suddenly you are managing a small textile operation.
The washing instructions introduce another competitive element.
Thirty degrees. No softener. Wash separately. Do not tumble dry.
The clothes have more recovery requirements than the person who wore them.
And how does something designed to stretch, sweat and survive exercise become so emotionally fragile in a washing machine?
Then comes the drying.
At some point, the house begins to resemble a very modest sportswear exhibition. Black leggings everywhere, all apparently identical, each with a slightly different reason why it is still damp.
Nobody photographs this part.
There are plenty of pictures of determination, movement and beautifully coordinated outfits.
Very few of someone holding a damp sports bra and calculating whether it will be ready by tomorrow.
But this, too, is participation.
Behind every regular training routine is someone who keeps washing the evidence.
I think we deserve a medal.
Preferably one that can go in with the darks.
Silvia
Add comment
Comments