Sunday, June 10, 2012

I Work Out

We’ve all been there. You start working out, start cutting carbs, start passing on that second (alright, third) dessert. You’re drinking more water, you’re doing some sit-ups. It’s gradual, but it’s there. You can feel yourself tightening, becoming more fit, more active, more awesome. And if you’re anything like me, one good work out and you’re wondering why Sports Illustrated isn’t calling to do a piece on you. And remind me again why Victoria’s Secret hasn’t contacted me yet for a photo shoot?

I’ve told this to friends before, but when I come back from a good workout, I don’t even try to hide the fact that I’m checking myself out. Oh hey mirrored surface, you and I are about to get a lot closer. Did that one 45-minute session on the Elliptical just make my calves both sculpted AND shorts ready? I think so. Did 25 flailing and half-formed sit-ups just make my body comparable to Gisele Bundchen’s? You betcha. I don’t even need steroids…I just let the endorphins from a workout take over and make me freaking crazy. As I walk back to my house from a run/crawl, I check myself out in store windows. I turn up the music in my headphones and perfect my hip hop music video strut. I take every glance that comes my way as a for-sure “that person is checking me out”. No matter that that person is likely just trying to figure out the fastest path away from such a sweaty swollen smelly mess.

About a week ago, I was taking my dog for a long-ass walk. As with the normal progression of summer, it’s been getting hotter and hotter outside. People aren’t stopping their athletic activity, but they’re sure dressing skimpier. A girl ran past me, wearing what I’d categorize as a bathing suit…if I was being generous. I didn’t even try to contain my stare as she gazelle-d her way down the street. How does someone dress like that? I am terrified to wear shorts as I thunder down the road, unwilling for the general public to be exposed to my thighs. And then I realized that I’m only several more “oh yeah, I’m so hot right now” moments away from strapping on a sports bra and bike shorts myself and taking to the streets. The thought is terrifying, but I realized that even though I didn't agree with her outfit choice, that girl was owning that sidewalk. She believed it, and it showed. So I guess if you've got it, or you think you've got it because a million endorphins are making you believe you've got it, flaunt it.

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