Come On Let's Sweat!

If you're in one of those I-don't-wanna-laugh-with-someone-I'd-rather-laugh-at-them moods, you've come to the right place. Today, I learned that I've been roaming the gym with a false sense of security and, well, smugness.

My gym is one of those types where people do indeed go for business, but they also have to look good while doing it. Therefore, the women wear cute workout clothes and makeup while they sweat. I would love to know what kind of makeup they use that stays on during such humid conditions, but I digress. Unlike these women who are the majority, I show up in t-shirts and sweats/yoga pants. In this economy, I just don't have the funds to buy cute gym clothes unless they're on serious markdown at Target or Ross. No big deal. Regardless, I go to the gym for me. I want to improve my health so I can improve my quality of life.

It is this attitude that has resulted in my sense of badassness. On cardio days, I Bogart a treadmill or an elliptical machine, and work my arse off to my favorite tunes. Yes, I still call them "tunes." Anyway, after kicking so much arse to the beats of The Killers or Red Hot Chili Peppers, I hit the showers feeling strong! Sexy! 007-ish!

Until today. In one of the dressing rooms, I took off my pants and saw--gasp!--two smiley faces of sweat under my panty line. If I saw them after I took my pants off, then everyone saw them while my sweat was smiling at my behind. Okay, perhaps this doesn't sound as devastating when you're reading it. It's probably one of those things you have to see to get the full funny effect.

Anyway, this episode did not come without a lesson: Buy better pants. Sell off some yarn stash, in necessary. I suppose I should just be glad that I didn't wear a thong today.