By Christopher Cudworth
I have specially designed running hats. Those are really great. They’re washable. When they funk out you just throw them in with the running and riding clothes and they come out of the wash like new.
Don’t dry them, or they shrink. But beyond that they’re low maintenance.
Then there are a dozen or so quasi-running hats that can do in a pinch in case I can’t find any of the real running hats. Those float around the house like otters in a kelp bed. I pick them up and put them on my head as necessary or as the whim hits me.
I wear stocking caps under my bike helmet in winter. Balaclavas on the worst days. Which this winter was every time I rode. Like, three times. I wimped out. Admit it.
The new Nike stocking cap was a Christmas present from my companion. It matches the sweet Nike running jacket she also bought me. I look very matchey in that getup. Makes me happy.
But the time has come where I need to clear out a few hats. Some are more than 20 years old. One Columbia hat was purchased specifically for a trip to Crow Canyon Archeology Center and a desert study of Anasazi astronomy. That’s a lot of vowels, I know. But it was an awesome trip. I wore that hat while running up into the mountains near Durango, Colorado. So it has sentimental value. But it is tired and old. It was red when I bought it. Now it’s kind of pink.
Same goes for the Strawberry Fields cap purchased for me by my sister-in-law from the John Lennon collection in New York city. Unfortunately, that hat picked up some oily stains on the front and needs either a wash or to be discarded.
Because I want to make room for some new hats. I never promised I was going to own less. Only that it was Survival of the Hattest. Evolution rocks, baby.