This spring, I ran 13 miles wearing a free T-shirt from a cement supplier, a pair of leggings I got from Oxfam, a £4 sports bra from Walthamstow market and a pair of £15 trainers off Vinted. I ran it, I am sure, at exactly the same speed and with the same level of comfort as I would have in a pair of £150 designer running tights and an £86 running shirt designed by Paul McCartney’s daughter. Which is to say that I hoofed along, sweating and sniffing and occasionally stopping to wee in a bush.
Fifteen years after taking up regular running, and at a point where I run six miles at least three times a week, I still refuse to pay more than £20 for any so-called “sportswear”. Sportswear, as far as I’m concerned, is whatever you wear when you’re doing sports. And if that includes old pyjamas, holiday shorts and a pair of trainers left over after a birthday party, then so be it.
