I run every Thursday morning. It’s a little loop around the neighborhood and it doesn’t take me very long. I huff and puff in my snail tempo jogging speed and afterward at home I have a good long stretch. Usually after I do this, I feel fantastic.
When I go running, I wear exercise clothes. Especially in the hot temperatures of the Arizona summer, that entails a form fitted, white, sleeveless running shirt and some shorts.
As you may know, I am on the more heavy side and that shirt and those shorts show each and every one of my fat rolls in perfect detail. I am out there on the road in all my sweaty, red-faced, fat bouncing glory, making sure I am still fit for years to come.
I have seen people looking at me with concerned faces or even a bit of revulsion. Mostly those were lanky teenage boys who tried to look cool with their skateboards and their almost pants on the ground.
Most of the time though, the people I pass are friendly, smiling and wishing me a good morning. They are out there themselves, exercising and walking their dogs.
Now when I was younger, I went out in baggy cotton shirts to hide my figure (which was ironically a great deal better than it is now). I was self-conscious and did not want my wobbly parts to show.
But guess what? Wearing those clothes made exercising a whole lot harder than it had to be. Wearing those bulky shirts worked like wearing an oven. They trapped the sweat and they grew exponentially warmer.
At some point it was just unbearable to go on. So I gave up before my whole run was done. That in turn led to being discouraged and to giving up on that particular exercise altogether.
Well, not anymore. Exercise clothes are developed nowadays with a large input of science and research. These clothes make it much easier to work out, because they keep you cool and ventilated, and in case of the shoes, cushioned and in alignment. They are the epitome of functionality. Why on earth would I not take advantage of them? I need all the help I can get.
So, whenever I encounter someone now who stares in disgust at my wavering masses, I think in my head: “Eff off, I’m doing this for my health.”