So, earlier this year I made the crazy decision to try to be a better version of myself – see post. Now, I’m not a small framed girl and ladies in my family are all very generous in the bust department so running does not come particularly naturally to me. Let’s just say I like the idea of it more than the actual doing… However I am nothing if not stubborn and perseverance kept bringing me back to this, it seemed the perfect work-out I could even listen to an audio-book while I go, right, what can be bad about that?
Arriving home from a stressful day, I decided I could squeeze in a quick jog before my husband arrived home. It was cutting it fine but I could do it. However rummaging around in the room I couldn’t find my usual jogging bottoms that double as dog walking gear so settled on leggings (it’s what other girls wear right). Rummaging further I remembered that the workout shirt I used to wear had decided to part way with any normal colour and I had thrown it out. No problem, I still had that lycra top from the yoga class I took all those years ago – a little tight now and a bit too slinky but it would do the job. Bouncing down the stairs in my new attire I raided the coat stand and finding nothing suitable settled on a short sleeve hoody that again is usually relegated to dog walking on the sunny-but-not-quite-summer days. And I was off…
Running a reasonable pace (I thought) and all in good time. The top began to get on my nerves, slinking up all the time. Not a massive problem on its own but the leggings also decided they wanted to start slipping down. Fed up with the continual battle I grabbed hold of the waistband and hoicked with all my power and heard a ripping sound. Now although impressed at my strength, it was at this point that I realised that leggings weren’t supposed to make that sound and that on further inspection I was actually wearing black footless tights. To make matters worse my underwear was not black – disaster! The top I was wearing refused to co-operate and cover my bottom and I couldn’t even cover myself with my hoodie as it was one of those silly ones with short sleeves.
The good news is I have never run home so fast in all my life and my heart probably got the best work out it has ever had.