Remember eight weeks ago, how I wrote a post bitching about my stinky running gear?
I didn't think so. Well, if you want a refresher - here's a link. This post is a follow-on to that, since I finally found some time to write it out.
Since that time, I've done some research and experimentation on the whole "My clean running clothes smell like that Tupperware full of Thanksgiving turkey that I found in the fridge on Christmas" thing. Everyone seems to have a different way of getting their stuff smelling nice again. There's tons of advice to be had. But different things work or don't work for different people. Why would that be? Shouldn't there just be that one true way that rules them all?
I dug through the bowels of the internet long enough to educate myself on why this stuff smells so bad to begin with, and I also stumbled upon a way that actually removes the stink! Well, one that works for me anyhow. I have theories on why different things work for different people. But not in this post.
"Wait... I want to hear more on what you learned about foul odors in technical fabrics!" scream the voices in my head. To which I respond with some paragraphs full of science-y semi-facts:
First off, my sweat doesn't stink (and, I suppose I have to admit that yours doesn't either). Apparently, we have bacteria to thank for that lovely runner's bouquet. The watery part of the sweat provides the bacteria with hydration and the fatty-proteiny parts give them something to eat. And when bacteria eat and hydrate well, they get all gassy. Horny too. You can probably guess what happens after that. That's right... binary fission, baby!
Nextly, the fabric used in most of the super-cheap (i.e. free - constituting at least 80% of my running wardrobe) running shirts is constructed of tiny polyester bacteria couches. It's an ideal place for them to just sit and eat and make bacteria babies. But they are kind of crappy couches where there are some springs missing in the middle and once the bacteria sit down, their butt is pretty much stuck there until some other partygoer comes by and helps them up. Except all their friends are also stuck on their own couches and all the couches are stuck together, so really, nobody is going anywhere.
Side note - Cotton is not made of bacteria couches. It also attracts a less pungent variety of bacteria. That was one of the most interesting things I learned in this process. The ones who get stuck in the polyester wicking material don't really care much for cotton, and vice-versa. The cotton-lovers go for that "international traveler on the last leg of a 36 hour itinerary" scent. The polyester freaks tend to produce the smell of something that would probably give a buzzard indigestion.
Back to the main narrative - Lots of other kinds of bacteria would get the message and leave (or die) if you stopped feeding them and giving them free drinks. But these particular freeloaders just pass out until another keg shows up. They'll lie there snoring forever if you don't find a way to kick them out. And if you water and feed them, they wake up and start farting again.
It may not seem like it, but this explains a lot. Buried in my feeble attempts at humor are the real reasons why you can wash a running shirt 50 times and still have it stink three minutes into a warm-weather run. Knowing this (which by the way, is half the battle), you must find a way to either flush those little guys out, or kill them.
Enter vinegar.
I'm not sure whether it dislodges them or kills them. And to be honest, I don't really care. But vinegar, used the right way, seems to do the trick. Here's a recipe that worked for me. Your results may vary.
1. Find a bucket or something that's large enough to hold all the gear you want to wash.
2. Put everything in the bucket, then fill the bucket with water.
3. Get some white vinegar, and add it to the mix.
4. Keep pouring until you think "I've put in way too much!"
5. Now, pour some more in, until the other person in your house who has to live with the stinky running gear stops saying "More! That's not nearly enough!"
6. Let it all soak for at least 30 minutes.
7. Pour the mixture into the washing machine (perhaps consider modifying this step if you have a front-loader).
8. Wash with cold water, minimal detergent, and zero fabric softener.
9. Hang to dry.
So, yeah. I've been pickling my running stuff. Contrary to what I expected, it all comes out of the wash smelling like nothing (though if you want your stuff to smell like pickles, you can use vinegar as a fabric softener). And it remains stink-free for several miles in the heat, too.