Me and the boys go running

Warning: This blog posting contains persistent, euphemistic references to the male nether regions (see, there's one already). And something that might qualify as a joke. If that sort of thing offends you, don't get teste. Um, testy. Just stop reading now.

I was discussing with a friend, who shall remain nameless for the time being, the importance of quality workout gear. Anything I buy this summer, I said, will be of a wicking polyester nature. I recently bought a pair of Elan shorts from Mountain Equipment Co-op -- 87% Supplex, 13% spandex in a "men's specific" cut. They're 1,000% comfortable. I was trying to find a polite way to explain that, well, my boys don't want me to wear anything else.

"My undercarriage approves," I said.

"'Undercarriage-approved,'" she mused. "God, I hope that's a thumb that's up in the logo."

I've long held to a no-Speedo ethic, feeling that such swimwear puts the side-order of veggies too prominently on display. "Banana hammocks," my friend Joe calls them. However, at some point, you gotta say, "Modesty be damned," give some priority to comfort, and maybe wear a longer jersey.

Cotton is cheap. Cotton is forgiving. Sweatwise, cotton also soaks it up like your Scottish uncle at a whisky pavilion. It becomes uncomfortable quite quickly; and if it's miserable in the heat, it's even worse in the cold. I've read recently that Merino wool wicks wonderfully and controls odour well, but I haven't had the opportunity to put it to the test, and frankly, it's June, for the love of whatever's holy this week. A spandex/poly blend may be a little revealing of your little brothers, but I guarantee it'll make you want to work out longer, accompanied by a suitable top of a wicking variety.

So I gotta pick up another pair of Elans this weekend. And, I suppose, a couple longer jerseys.