Thursday, February 25, 2010

Run, Lacey, Run!

Or mostly walk.... whatever.

So I went to the gym at lunch today because I was a complete slack job last night. Forty minutes and 3.1 miles later, I was only focused on two unfortunate realities.

But let's back up a bit.

There I am on the treadmill trotting along when I see a ghost beside me. ACK! No wait, I'm on the treadmill closest to the mirror and I am pale... Almost freakishly so. This doesn't affect my training of course, it just makes me look silly in comparison the darker skinned gym goers. It's the concept of wearing dark colors to look slimmer. I wear a full body suit of white (also known as makes-you-appear-bigger-glow). No big deal. But… now I’ve seen myself in the mirror and it’s like a train wreck.

Slow…

Motion…

And…

I…

Can’t…

Look…

Away…

It’s not just my pale legs. It’s my form (both physical and running). I lean forward for no reason. And I kinda look like I ate a bean bag. If I don’t quit running like this, I know what I’m going to be for Halloween.

Reality #1: I currently run and look like an overweight toddler made of vanilla ice cream and mashed potatoes.

I try to shrug off the sinking feeling in my stomach. I remind myself that I have an okay personality. My hair is pretty. I can work on my running. I will lose weight. They make full length black spandex pants. I’m doing this for a good cause.

I refocus my attention on the television in front of me. Men’s Olympic hockey recaps. How could this not improve my mood?

Does this television have smellevision? It smells like a locker room. A men's locker room. A men's locker room filled with hockey gear. My eyes are watering as the pungent smell reaches the depth of my being and permeates my olfactory system and my soul. Is that me? Surely not. I’m taking a shower before I go back to work anyway. I packed my flips flops and my hair brush and my anti-white-girl-afro-spray and my shampoo and my conditioner and my to-

Crap.

Reality #2: I did not bring a bath towel.

Again, I try to shrug off the sinking feeling in my stomach. I remind myself that I still have an okay personality. My hair is still pretty. I do have a hand towel to dry off with. Maybe no one will notice me strolling from the shower to my locker wearing only a hand towel. I’m so white I’m practically invisible anyway. I’m still doing this for a good cause.

Clearly, things worked out. I’m sitting, freshly showered, at my desk. I didn’t die from embarrassment and I got in a few miles. Now I just need to take control of my own reality. #2 is easy- don’t forget your towel. #1? Well that is going to take time, dedication, and a little help from my friends.

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