"Wow, that skirt is SO cute! I'm jealous," Crazy Ass said as we started our final training run before the Canyonlands Half Marathon, 2009. We set out to run 12 miles in preparation for the 13.1 we'd be required to run on race day. The skirt was the result of an impulse buy at Target the weekend prior. I just had to have the perfect running chick outfit for the race and this was a great time to test it out. I paired it with a coral tank and white Under Armor hat. Feeling like a Runner's World cover model, I set out, with Crazy Ass by my side.
"I can't believe we're finally running 12!" I exclaimed as we started down the bike path. The weather couldn't have been any more beautiful, and both of us were in perfect form for a great run. I find when running with a partner, performance often boils down to the lowest common denominator. If one of us is not feeling it on a particular day, it brings down the run for both of us. This time, we were both in top form. We were a force to be reckoned with.
The burn started around mile 4. When I say burn, I don't mean the good kind that happens when you push yourself hard and your muscles really start feeling it. No, I mean the kind of burn that occurs when a boy scout rubs two sticks together - only it was between my thighs. This was some serious chafing caused by a little extra that didn't factor into my choice to wear a skirt that day. Clearly, deoderant between the legs strategy was not enough this time. (Remember Paulie Bleeker, in Juno, wearing his running shorts and tube socks rubbing on deoderant to prevent chafing between the legs? I've been doing that since middle school!)
By mile 6, I was apologizing to Crazy Ass, "I'm sorry. I just don't think I can go much further." Crazy Ass suggested I call Flash and ask him bring a change of clothes. As a result of that phone call, I would like to extend my heartfelt apologies to the following people:
To the residents of the homes north of First Street between Taft and Wilson in Loveland: I sincerely apologize if I woke you with my yelps of pain each time my chubby thighs rubbed together.
To Flash: for waking you at some God-awful hour and asking you to rifle through my clothes in search of a pair of running capris and bring them to me across town. It really was a running emergency!
To any passersby on First Street who may have witnessed my "Quick Change" in the front seat of Flash's Red Ford Explorer (and I call him Flash?). I am terribly sorry if the sight offended you.
To Crazy Ass for the horrendous underwear I was wearing that day (they wick away moisture!). I hope the vision of them hasn't haunted you to this day.
To Runner's World: I'm afraid my cover girl days are yet to come.
Thank God I had the sense to conduct this little fashion experiment on a training run rather than waiting until race day. A wardrobe malfunction could have prevented me from finishing a race I had prepaired for months to run. Lesson learned: Cute only goes so far (6 miles to be exact.)
"I can't believe we're finally running 12!" I exclaimed as we started down the bike path. The weather couldn't have been any more beautiful, and both of us were in perfect form for a great run. I find when running with a partner, performance often boils down to the lowest common denominator. If one of us is not feeling it on a particular day, it brings down the run for both of us. This time, we were both in top form. We were a force to be reckoned with.
The burn started around mile 4. When I say burn, I don't mean the good kind that happens when you push yourself hard and your muscles really start feeling it. No, I mean the kind of burn that occurs when a boy scout rubs two sticks together - only it was between my thighs. This was some serious chafing caused by a little extra that didn't factor into my choice to wear a skirt that day. Clearly, deoderant between the legs strategy was not enough this time. (Remember Paulie Bleeker, in Juno, wearing his running shorts and tube socks rubbing on deoderant to prevent chafing between the legs? I've been doing that since middle school!)
By mile 6, I was apologizing to Crazy Ass, "I'm sorry. I just don't think I can go much further." Crazy Ass suggested I call Flash and ask him bring a change of clothes. As a result of that phone call, I would like to extend my heartfelt apologies to the following people:
To the residents of the homes north of First Street between Taft and Wilson in Loveland: I sincerely apologize if I woke you with my yelps of pain each time my chubby thighs rubbed together.
To Flash: for waking you at some God-awful hour and asking you to rifle through my clothes in search of a pair of running capris and bring them to me across town. It really was a running emergency!
To any passersby on First Street who may have witnessed my "Quick Change" in the front seat of Flash's Red Ford Explorer (and I call him Flash?). I am terribly sorry if the sight offended you.
To Crazy Ass for the horrendous underwear I was wearing that day (they wick away moisture!). I hope the vision of them hasn't haunted you to this day.
To Runner's World: I'm afraid my cover girl days are yet to come.
Thank God I had the sense to conduct this little fashion experiment on a training run rather than waiting until race day. A wardrobe malfunction could have prevented me from finishing a race I had prepaired for months to run. Lesson learned: Cute only goes so far (6 miles to be exact.)
3 comments:
This is why I don't wear corduroy.
Ha! I will keep that in mind!
In case anyone is considering a skirt... Keep in mind that your legs and feet swell when you run. Try a run of less than 4 miles your first time out. Today, I noticed at about 3.5 miles there was a noticeable difference in the clearance between the thighs!
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