Memories of Running

I pride myself for having a pretty good memory. I can remember the most miniscule of details. It is, by the way, not such a good thing when I’m trying to move on from a bad break-up. But that’s for another post which I won’t blog about anytime soon. Maybe when the wounds have healed and the bitterness and the sadness are gone.

Now I digress which I often do when I write. Anyway, even if I can remember things better than the average person I have one thing that I always forget. Gym clothes.

Take for example on Saturday I left the house early to hit the treadmill before an afternoon of badminton matches. When I opened my bag at the gym my shorts wasn’t in sight. I rummaged through the duffel bag but it wasn’t there. Then I remembered. I placed it on my bed while packing the things needed for the day’s activities and totally forgot to pack it.

I sat on the bench thinking how was I going to kill 4 hours before the badminton session. Thank goodness an officemate, who lives nearby, texted and asked if I was free to have brunch. Lucky me. Problem solved.

But that’s not the only time I forgot to bring things. There were times when I arrived at the gym without bringing shorts. Or white socks. Or a towel. Or soap. Or shampoo. So far, I have not forgotten to bring my undergarments. Yet.

One time I and my officemates agreed to play badminton after work. At the court I was ready. I had my shorts, shirt and white socks on. Then I opened my shoe bag. Guess what? I saw black. Black shoes.

Then it dawned on me. The night before I went to the gym but didn’t bother to change back to my leather shoes before heading home. I cursed myself.

An officemate said I could play using black shoes. I tried it on. We burst out laughing. I looked like a dork.

So they played. And I went home.

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