Heaven help me, never again will I wear shorts to run. Well, at least not till I lose at least 10 lbs. Let me explain to you my ordeal. Today I thought it would be a good idea to get a pair of my old running shorts out. It's hot and why not wear them. So I found a pair that I could still actually get my butt into. I was feelin' pretty good.
Headed out to the road. Took my first few steps and realized I made a terrible mistake! A few days ago, I posted on Reeboks and Spurs about my spandex tights swooshing as I ran. Why I didn't think of that, one will never know. So here I am, out on the country road, with my thighs generating such a massive vortex that my shorts have no other option but to be sucked into my crotch. No matter how many times I pulled them back down, the force was impenetrable. The shorts succumbed to it every time within milliseconds. I finally gave up.
It's a lovely image I know. At least only one truck passed me and he was coming from behind me. My inner thighs are rubbed raw. I told the husband I need to find the suave. His only response, "oh my." Then I told him if he finds a bag of frozen peas in the bed tonight, not to worry, I just had them between my thighs.
Now aren't y'all glad I decided to share this here and not on my running blog. I figured you could use a laugh.
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