Personally, I've never believed that. I'm the kid that would wear the torn jeans to school on the first day much to my mother's chagrin. My reasoning, eventually, the teacher's going to see me in my torn jeans and tee shirt, so it might as well be today. Under the same philosophy, I would stop at a fast food restaurant on the way home from purchasing a new car. My reasoning, eventually, I'm going to eat and drink in my new car, so it might as well be today.
Anyway, applying this philosophy to other areas of life, I'm the person you see walking down the street, or in the gym, or on my lifecycle, in torn, faded, oversized shorts and a stained, torn or faded tee shirt (of some sort). I don't wear my beaten up sneakers any more though because I've learned, you need to be good to your feet.
I could never understand those men and women who could step out of the gym into a fashion magazine with their bright color spandex outfits, mutli-striped shirts, etc. Truth though, I was slightly jealous of them too because in the back of my mind, I figured those types of outfits would never fit me.
Now here comes Chris with his new "get up and go" lifestyle, which, by the way, is shocking all of us. I still think he's hit a mid-life crisis (I mean he's shaved his head, he's working out, he wants sex all the time and he's considering a tatoo - c'mon - who's he trying to kid), but I digress. Chris jogs now (though he'd probably prefer me to call it running). I guess the jogging's not totally surprising because, contrary to current belief, Chris used to be an active guy, playing varsity soccer in High School (nice thighs). It was only after college, that he became the banner boy for couch potatoes.
Anyway....Chris is jogging and what's the first thing Chris does? He goes to the sporting goods store (he prefers Dicks over Models or Sports Authority) and he buys himself a few pairs of jogging shorts and matching shirts (he prefers New Balance). Chris turned into one of them .... the pod people (I won't even mention the preaching he's been doing to me about exercise - perhaps that will be tomorrow's topic).
So Saturday, in the midst of our errands, he wants to stop at Dick's because he needs another pair of jogging shorts and he wants some stuff to get for his bike. Bike? Yep, he's picking up his bike from it's storage place at his aunt's and intends to start riding again (another story here). Okay, I'm game - I'll stop at Dick's with him.
So after we pick out his additional jogging outfit, odometer for his bike, a new bike helmet for me (another topic), a cheap tennis racket and balls for Becky (tennis is the next sport she wants to "try"), we spy some women's work-out clothes on the way to the register and Chris suggests I get some shorts and a top.
Now I'm flushed - why? Because deep down I know (believe) they won't fit and I'll once again be embarrased by my weight. But, cornered, I agree, and tell him to pick out some shorts and matching top in extra large. Peach - he picks peach???!!??? Okay - whatever, it can't be any worse than the Marie Calender's shirt I normally wear to the gym (on some other warped principle) that says, "Life's Short; Eat Dessert First."
We get home, and the new snazzy outfit gets draped over the easy chair (with other assorted clean laundry) hopefully to never be heard from again.
Yesterday, after a huge brunch with the Lehigh Girls at Blue Water Grill, I get home to find Chris wants to take a walk with me - "Oh, and try on the new shorts and stuff we bought," he says. Gulp.
So - I do - and you know what? The shorts fit and they're darn comfortable. The top's too tight to wear in public, but it felt pretty good when I wore it in the privacy of my bedroom this morning to do the lifecycle.
I went to