Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Reason #2 I'm Damn Fine - Spinoff
Alright folks, here comes Round 2. First the very much required shout out to Marjorie at Don't Call Me Marge. Her original 5 Reasons. My original 5 Reasons. We're kind of a big deal; you should read us. Moving on...
Reason #2: I jog a.k.a I work out!
My original post consisted of a witty play on LMFAO's, I'm Sexy and I Know It. This post is going to be more along the lines of why I hate to love jogging. It's inspired by yet another fantastic blog post, "An ode to running" on yet another fantastic blog, Bitchin Sisters.
Me and jogging have had an on/off relationship for some time now. We take breaks from each other, but we always find our way back to each other in the end. We've recently rekindled our connection, but let me tell you, it hasn't been easy. First, jogging made my legs hurt, more specifically, the backs of my calves.
For a few days, I could hardly get out of bed without stumbling for the first few steps. Then, jogging made my ankles hurt. I had to take the elevator down one measly floor because my ankles just couldn't sustain the pressure of walking down stairs. I'll have you know, though, that going up stairs was fine; it was just the downward direction that caused borderline paralysis. Finally, jogging made my knee hurt. Just the left one. I randomly woke up one morning and could hardly bend it. But all that pain, it was the good kind. The kind that reminds me of the fact that I am a jogger. There's just something about that feeling of achievement after a jog, that ability to say, "That's right, I just went for a jog," that makes me continue my hate/love relationship with jogging.
I mentioned in my 5 Reasons post that people stare when I jog on by.
Now, I like to think it's because I look like this:
In actuality, it's likely because I look like this (still pretty damn cute, right?!):
In keeping with the theme of how I look when I jog, I'm going to do my best at creating a mental image for you of what I look like when I jog outside in the winter (another reason I hate to love jogging). In our relationship, jogging takes care of me, you see. Before we can go out together, I have to be dressed properly for the frigid weather. Now, here's what I mean by 'properly', first comes the long underwear. It's special long underwear, though, black and made of lycra a.k.a spandex so when I put on the tops and bottoms I kind of look like a ninja (minus the mask). Next, either a cotton long-sleeved tee or a light, fleece sweater.
It really depends how cold it is outside. Then, thick, fleece pants and a hooded sweater. Finally, after wiggling around and adjusting the many layers of seams involved in my get-up so that I am at some level of comfort, I put on a toque (linked in case you're unfamiliar with the word), gloves, and then wrap a scarf around my face. The final stage is just a little more complicated, though, when it comes to the scarf. I wear glasses (one of the Reasons I'm Damn Fine that didn't make it into my 5 Reasons post) which means that I have to position the scarf just right so that when I exhale my glasses don't get all steamy from the chemistry that occurs when my excessive hotness meets the extreme cold. Of course, when I leave the house, every article of clothing is in its proper place looking fine. By the time I get about half way through a jog, however, everything has shifted to the point that I look like a hot mess. Really, though, there's only one kind of sweat hotter than workout sweat...
My educated (I'm smart, remember) guess is that my relationship with jogging will only get stronger as time goes by. If we happen to take the odd break every now and then, well, absence only makes the heart grow fonder. Me and jogging, we're the real deal!