A Skort? Really?


Let me start by telling you that a few months ago, Boyfriend and I stopped at the Nike Outlet on our way back from somewhere far enough away that we passed some outlets. Anyways, we stopped because he wanted something or other and I like to buy things.

Obviously, I’m more about “oOOoooO how cute” and less “this is so practical…” There is also a far amount of the voices in my head screaming, “SALE! DISCOUNT! BUY!”

And, so there I am tearing around the sale racks of the Nike Outlet squealing and grabbing, unsupervised mind you, when I come across this pink-orange running skirt with attached neon yellow spandex shorts. I’m not sure if I gasped audibly or if that was more of the head-voices, however when I did the extra-discount calculation (“$12.97!!! OMG TAKE MY WALLET!) I B-lined for the dressing room.

Then I bought them and took a hiatus from running.

So, this morning when I packed my running (I’m back in the game!) bag, I was anticipating it being in the 70’s by the time I was able to hit the pavement. This made it the perfect day for my adorable running skort (it says Nike Running on it, don’t judge me).

Ok, here’s the thing. If you have been blessed with thighs that touch (represent, yagirl) you are probably going to see where I am going with this in about two seconds. If your thighs don’t touch, congrats, eat a cheeseburger and go buy yourself some more boots that don’t require stretching or some new phenomenon called “wide-shaft.” (Giggle!) Seriously though, the cheeseburger…

Back to me! I’m a mile into my run when I realize those super-cute, had-to-have-but-only-on-sale spandies were riding up. This began the first of many combination waddle-tugs that involved me trying to pull my inner shorts from my crotch without tripping over the front of my feet. You might ask, why didn’t you stop? Oh, jee, the same reason you don’t pull over when picking your nose. My neon thigh wedgie could only attract more attention when stationary.

And, did I mention the chaffing? OH, the chaffing! Not only did my shorts refuse to stay down, the stubborn bitches, my blessed thighs (see also: strong, powerful) started to sting. Eff, really? Did I not learn anything after a day of walking Disney Land in a skirt? How could I forgot a pain so bad I had to sleep with a cold wash cloth pressed between the frisbee-sized swells?

It was about this point on the run that I remembered Darwin’s Theory and came to the conclusion if we did not live in an advance society I might not survive.

The worst part? I still had to GET HOME, and yes, I was strongly considering an Uber car. I was 1.5 miles from away, and run, walk – it didn’t matter. It couldn’t be avoided. My poor inner thighs could do nothing but carry me while I tried to occupy my mind with aloe lotion, ice packs and a cold shower.


Welcome 2013!

Hello, reader! Remember four years ago when I started this fabulous blog? I was job-less, on a spending-spree and time was plentiful. Ah, the good old days of unemployment when I still didn’t go to the gym because I was sleeping in and I barely made it to work at the restaurant at 4pm. 

Even with my days open and free, I still had trouble staying on task with my blogging but I was dating enough weirdos that I had ample to write about. And my fans (you)  liked my blog SO much that it went straight to the inflated place in my head. So, every time I baked something yummy and my roommate said, “that was delicious” what I heard him say is “this pie is amazing you should start a blog with a supporting twitter/Facebook/every.social.network.ever account!!!” Or when I started running, and my aunt was all, “that’s so cool” I translated it to “you should log that via the interwebs!” 

Epic fail. 

Three blogs. THREE. Who starts three when they can barely keep up one? I started a baking blog to rebel against weight loss and log my Grandma’s recipes. But really, after Thanksgiving who has time to think about pies? I gained 10 pounds so fast all I had to do was LOOK at chocolate and BOOM another 4 ounces. I started running to counteract those same 10 pounds. And it was so fun and time consuming, I started another blog.  Both had corresponding twitter account – did I tell you I don’t like twitter? That I only use it when I am 16 ounces deep and watching football? 

So here we are, the beginning of a new year. I keep reading Facebook statuses (stati?) along the lines of, “omg 2012 was so hard but I learned so much – clean slate!” From personal experience I can tell you the slate isn’t really clean. That people still remember that time you had a few too many cosmos and lost a shoe somewhere. (Never gonna live that one down). For you, the new year is a time to make resolutions that will last between 3 and 5 months, overcrowd the gym so every day patrons complain and go on a detox of some sort. And for me, it’s a time to swear back writing – in.one.blog. This means if I have a block, I might post a past recipe from Sexier than Meatloaf. Or remind you of the time I thought I might wheeze myself to death at Greenlake from Woggin’ and Joggin’. Something is better than nothing people. 

Cheers to you, cheers to 2013 and most importantly – CHEERS TO ME.