Gear

A Love Letter To The Perfect Black Leggings

They say you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone. Just like when your fav leggings bite the dust.

black leggings

Every runner has a favorite pair of leggings. They are probably stretchy, comfortable and very likely black. And when that special pair finally bites the dust, it can be a majorly difficult loss to process. You may need to cry, scream or go on a major shopping spree. I recently had to say goodbye to my favorites and thought it best to pay tribute to them in a farewell letter:

My beloved black leggings,

I didn’t see it coming. One day we were out on a perfect five-mile run, closer than ever, and the next you had abandoned me with a crotch-to-knee rip not even the best Project Runway contestant could save.

I suppose I should have known this would happen. We’ve been together so long. I easily recognized the signs that you were stressed. A frayed ankle here, a loosening waistband there— your cries for help were obvious but I was in denial. When I should have pulled other pants into the rotation, I only clung to you harder.

We’ve been through so much together. Long runs, treadmill jogs, and just about every cold-weather race I’ve entered since I bought you. Your midnight black hue kept all my secrets, from how infrequently I do laundry to that one time I couldn’t make it to the porta potty in time. You fit me like a glove the day we met and still went on smoothly on my most bloated day. You hit that sweet spot on my ankle, longer than capris but not so long I had to do that awkward bunching up thing. Not only did you keep me comfy on my toughest runs, but you also pulled double duty for trips to the grocery store, coffee dates… and ok, days I didn’t work out at all. And man, did you ever get us compliments! Everyone wanted to know where I got you or if I had lost weight (thanks for letting me take the credit instead of giving you props for your 15% spandex compression magic).

I wish we had more time together. We never did get to run that marathon, and we didn’t do nearly enough trail runs on the weekends. If I had known our time was so fleeting, I would have given you the cold-water-wash, line-dry treatment you deserved.

I know there is a sea of black leggings out there for runners, and maybe I’ll find another pair that comes close. But there will never be another quite like you. In time I will go shopping, but out of respect, I’ll stick other, lesser leggings for now. And hey, soon it will be warm enough to wear shorts and take my mind off you all together. Perhaps one day we’ll meet again on the great running trail in the sky. Farewell, my stretchy soulmates!