Gym Woes

I did two things differently at the gym yesterday than i normally do. 1) I ran with music. 2) I wore a t-shirt instead of a tank top. Who knew these two small, insignificant changes to my routine could cause so much inner turmoil.


1) I recently indulged and got an iPhone (just the 4, people. No Siri in my life.) So I'm loving having Pandora at my fingertips and that was reason enough to invite music on my little treadmill run. Believe it or not, I usually run with nothing but my breathing to keep me company. Well, I cued up my Fugee radio station and got to running. And I was loving it. Enough so that I was getting these urges to break out in song and harmonize with my girl, Lauryn Hill. And let's not act like I can sing. Not that it matters- you just can't be doing that at the gym. Leave the grunting, moaning, and singing at home bc no one wants to hear it. And then that one song comes on...."You, you got what I need, but you say he's just a friend, but you say he's just a friend. OH BABY you...." You know the one. And how can you not sing along to this? I'm trying to just mouth the words but every now and then my vocal chords get hold of one those words and lets it escape. Before I know it, I'm exerting as much energy to stifle my singing as I am to running. A lot of work running with music.


2) So I'm a little embarrassed to share this confession but here it goes. So I HATE having my armpits covered when I work out. Drives me crazy. I can FEEL the heat increasing, the sweat gathering, and it's trapped, has no where to go. Which is why I have a strict 'tank-top only' policy for working out. How in the world did I talk myself out of it yesterday? I don't know but I threw on a super light V-neck tee and was out the door. Well I get a mile or so into my run and I'm starting to feel border-line schizophrenic. I'm having the urge to rip my clothing off, only to be compared to the one time I was tricked into natural child birth and had the same urge. I was just a yanking at the hospital garb trying to get NAKED. I was that hot and desperate. You know your mind's not quite in the right place when you reach that level. So that's where I found myself yesterday. Remember last post about not taking a stance? Well I'm about to take a stance- I don't like girls wearing just their sports bra at the gym. I think it's unnecessary. Keep it classy. On with the story. I find myself in a predicament. I'm about to lose my dang mind with this t-shirt yet it goes against "me" to take my shirt off. But I'm desperate and can focus literally on nothing else other than FREEING MY ARMPITS. So the shirt had to go. I at least left it draped around my neck, hanging over my bra and some of the tum-tum. But no doubt I was bare backing it, sides exposed, and let's be honest...a good part of the stomach. I was essentially one of "those" girls for a good 15 minutes. But drastic circumstances call for drastic measures. Do forgive me. I was out of my mind. I am more recommitted than ever to my tank tops.


Lesson learned. I must still be traumatized by the whole situation...couldn't get myself to my favorite class this morning. Think I must still be hiding my face....and my back....and my tummy.