I received an email from a marketing group several weeks ago asking me if I would like to test their product, ProWash, and write a review on this site. I said ‘Sure but “ProWash” is a funny name for a Ferrari manufacturer.’ I offered to send them a copy of my garage door opener so they could park my new ProWash in my garage. They said no, they’d just sent it through regular mail and it’d probably be on my porch. I’m not one to look a gift Ferrari in the mouth so I just chuckled and thought fine, just wait til you see the size of my porch!
Then, a few weeks later, a package showed up. On my porch. About the size of a shoe box. That’s odd. There was this little pouch inside filled with liquid laundry detergent and the name ProWash splashed across the front. I was confused for a moment until it hit me: these people don’t know how to make a high performance sport vehicle. Fools.
Instead of getting into another shouting match with a stranger that day, I decided against calling them out on their rather obvious error. I’d just review their ProWash as if it was intended to be activewear detergent and no one would be the wiser.
Now, the problem with my review of this product is that I don’t normally do the laundry at my house. We have a strict Separation of Duties rule in the Nitmos house. Mrs. Nitmos does the laundry, cooking, cleaning, child rearing, and tire stacking. I do the TV remote battery replacement, recliner cushion testing, and, occasionally, check and clean the Unicorn traps as necessary. You might think I have it easy but then you’ve probably never had to remove a broken necked Unicorn from a spring loaded trap. Though, truth be told, neither have I. The Unicorn traps are always empty (which leads me to believe I’m either a kick ass home defender against flying Unicorns or my traps don’t work.)
Anyway, we gave my running clothes several washes with ProWash to get an idea on how well it works. Normally, my running shirts have a lingering funk to them even after returning from the wash…like a Ghosts of Runs Past type smell. Frankly, I enjoy it. I imagine that, if I were a cartoon, you’d see little squiggly aroma lines trailing behind me as I run. After the ProWash treatment, my running clothes seemed to be pretty much robbed of their perpetual stank. It was still there if I sniffed hard but it didn’t immediately smack me in the face like before as I pulled my shirt over my head. In fact, my clothes had an overpowering clean smell. Not sure how to describe a “clean” smell but I think you know it when you smell it. If you are still not sure what I mean by clean, then let me spell it out for you: It didn’t smell like my hairy arm pit, an accumulation of 100 saturations of groin sweat, or my anus. Got it?
All in all, I’d say this is a good product. It definitely seemed to clean my “activewear” (which, I think, is Flamboyese for “running clothes”) better than regular laundry detergent. The clothes felt and smelled fresher which might be a nice benefit for those that have that, um, not so fresh feeling. And I don’t believe it slowed me down any when running. I don’t think it made me any faster either but I don’t believe they market that it will.
If there is one drawback, it would be the price. It costs quite a bit more than regular detergent. And I’m a huge cheapskate (unless it comes to me buying more running shoes and race entry fees then I’m surprisingly benevolent.)
But, if you are someone who wants cleaner, fresher running clothes, then ProWash just might be the Ferrari of the activewear laundry detergents. (Note: Not an actual Ferrari. Learn from me.) Comparatively, everything else is just a supped up Honda Accord.
And if you want a better review of this product - one that doesn’t involve talk of Unicorns, Charles Dickens references, or my anus - then go here and here. Apparently, the ProWash folks didn’t think I’d effectively disperse their product through the running blogosphere so they enlisted other false prophets.
No worries. My feelings aren’t hurt. I’m still Magnum P.I. cool.