Unintentional Jeggings and the Workout Wave

   We Heart It

The strangest thing happened on Monday morning…

Back from our Chicago trip and headed back to work on Monday, I thought about all the fun winter fashion I’d seen on my trip.  Given that it was below 50 degrees here in Texas (which rarely happens) and that Chicago reinspired me to love to skinny jean and boot combo, I raided my closet for the perfect flowy tank, long cozy cardigan, skinny jean, and black boot combo to wear to work.  I collected them all and headed toward the full length mirror.  (My closet tends to overflow once in a while daily, so I have the walk in closet in our second bedroom/office so that our bedroom can stay semi decluttered.)  Anyway…all was well with the new fashion inspiration until I got to the skinny jeans.  “Hmm, that’s weird,” I thought as I slipped them on, “I don’t remember these jeans being tight in the calves.”  (Yes, I said calves, do read on.)  And as I wiggled the jeans past the knees and onto my thighs, all progress came to a screeching halt.  “What the …?!  How are these jeans so tight, what the heck happened?”  I quickly stripped them off certain they’d shrunk in the washer (first clue I was delusional because I don’t wash my denim, I dry clean it.)  I tossed them aside and went back to root through my closet for my Seven straight legs.  Surely these suckers will work with a boot.  I put them on, cleared the calf and knee area, and then nothing.  No progress, no forward motion.  Just my jeans and my thigh, chillin together, no attempt at teamwork.  I began to rattle off another list of delusions to myself.  Perhaps I have too much lotion on (I rarely wear lotion), perhaps my body expanded adjusting to the temperature change (pretty sure that is scientifically impossible), or perhaps these jeans were in with that mysterious shrunken load (right…because dry cleaners use so much heat.)  But after trying a third pair (I was actually that dumb/naive/delusional) and not being able to button the pair of jeans, I conceded and accepted the truth.  I have packed on a pound or two (or ten) in the recent months.  Dang.  Now I am not going to launch into a post about body issues, my battle with my weight, blah blah blah, I’ve recently accepted that I am not going to look like my 21 year old sorority self again.  Fine, I can handle it, I’ve moved on.  But when I can’t accept the fact that I have three pairs of jeans that have unintentionally turned into jeggings, three pairs of jeans I love and cannot grease myself squeeze into.

Luckily, I can shape up fairly quickly (fairly is a relative term) and so with some working out and not eating Dairy Queen 3 times a week, I should be able to be back in my jeans at some point this decade.  (I said it was relative.)  So yesterday after work, I headed to the gym for a good old “Cardio Blast” class.  (I could not survive the gym without classes.  They save me from the track, treadmill, and other torturous forms of calorie burning.)  And after an hour of stepping, punching, lunging, and crunching, the strangest thing happened (yes, stranger than the jeans debacle.)  I actually enjoyed the workout.  I was smiling. and as we left the gym, I said to my friend, “That was fun!”  Ummmmmmmmm…hold on, take my temperature, something is clearly wrong.  I enjoyed my workout?  That’s a new thing.  I generally leave the gym exhausted, sweaty, deflated, and beat down.  Yet yesterday, I was exhausted, sweaty, and happy?!  Weeeeird.  Yet, this morning, as I hopped off the treadmill (I could only squeeze in 30 minutes of cardio this morning, so the torturous treadmill was all I had time for) I again felt this weird feeling of upbeat happiness.  As I drove to work, I was noticeably cheerer (and more sore) than normal.  What in the world is going on?  Since when is working out even half an ounce of fun for me?  (I know there are some weird people who actually like working out, but I’ve decided those people are an alien species that have no relation to me.)  So I’m not sure if its the promise of a new year or my jeans cutting off oxygen flow to my brain, but something strange is definitely going on here.  So for now, I’m going with it, trying to ride out this workout fun wave for as long as it lasts and hoping it lasts long enough to get me back into my three pairs of once loved and worn, now skin tight and circulation stopping jeans.