Jogging Bras and Rabid Dogs

I woke up this morning to cooler temps in the high 60s, a good ten degrees lower than it was this time yesterday.  And, unlike the last few months spent living too close to the sun,  I felt inspired to take my run outside today.  My outdoor runs yield a much greater workout than the indoor ones taken on my treadmill.  Seriously, inside there are TVs involved, cellphones, sometimes even a book (only during the wind down part) but still …

Another perk of indoor exercise is that I can run in much more slovenly attire.  T-shirt (optional), standard bra and old gym shorts totally pull the indoor “look” together.  Outside exercise requires a little more attention to detail.  Not only does the world have the privilege of seeing you in all your disgusting and sweaty glory but, since the workout itself is always so much more intense, a jogging bra must come into play here. Mine’s black and it works beautifully.

Of course today, having not put it on in so long, I couldn’t help but notice the difference between what this bra does for me versus my ‘miraculous’ one.  I really need to write Victoria’s Secret a letter. Maybe they’ll ask ME to be in their next televised fashion show. (Oh, close your mouths. I am not that delusional.)

So, now fully garbed in my outside look, I grabbed my phone and set out for my run … looking a heck of a lot like a twelve-year-old boy.  Clearly, I either need to think long and hard about this decision … or perhaps just lobby Victoria’s Secret to manufacture an enhanced running bra.  Maybe it could have an iPhone charger built into the extra padding.

Although, while I was running today … fighting off the beagle attack I encounter nearly every time (I am SO going to make jerky out of that dog one day) … the thought occurred to me that any change I take on will get me out of heavy lifting and exercising for, like, a month or so.  I better double check those numbers.  And maybe the restrictions as well.

Think my family would understand if I was “incapable” of doing laundry, cleaning cat boxes, changing the channels on the remote, brushing my own hair, sitting upright, etc.  Hmmm, I may be on to something …

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One response to “Jogging Bras and Rabid Dogs

  1. An ODNT blast from the past. Great idea to link this to your recent post.

    “… looking a heck of a lot like a twelve-year-old boy.” You make me laugh.

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