I love working out. It feels fucking great and it’s something we should all do religiously. But by religiously I mean you should actually do it more than you do religious stuff like going to church two times a year or praying to the deities after you realize the condom broke.
When I work out, I work out. I’m not one of those girls who put on make up and get an up-do to “work out”. I’m not one of those girls who cycle at a less than pathetic pace while reading Cosmo. I’m not one of those girls who go to the gym and focus the majority of their time on exercising their tongue muscle.
I do however wear clothes that hug the body. I hate wearing loose t-shirts to the gym. Loose t-shirts are only acceptable for cardio training. Otherwise, they are far sluttier than tight t-shirts. Loose shirts are not adequate when you are doing burpies, inclined crunches, or other activities that involve hanging semi or totally upside down. Loose shirts ride up during such activities, exposing your stomach and boobs. That’s slutty. So tight t-shirt it is!
I also usually wear a lined sports bra. They have more support and I just feel more comfortable in them. The other day, I grabbed a regular sports bra because all my lined ones were in the laundry. I got to the gym and jumped into my running shoes. I did my usual warm up and then started going through one of my favourite ass and leg routines. About 15 minutes in, I started doing walking lunges.
At my – heavily populated – gym there is an aisle in between a bunch of the machines and free weights that is perfect for walking lunges. It’s the standard place to do them. Some people – insecure women – don’t like doing them because the aisle is right smack dab in the middle of the gym. 98% of the people in that part of the gym at any given time are males. This is where you find the dudes with veins popping out of their necks, grunting and sweating away. It actually can be kind of intimidating sometimes, but I’ve come to embrace the fact that I am just as hardcore as they are: even if I can only lift stereotypically girly amounts of weight.
So as I was saying, I started doing walking lunges through the highly populated, male dominated area of the gym.
It’s a pretty “attention whoreish” activity. I always feel like I should wear a sign saying, “LOOK AT ME” when I do them. Yet, they are so awesome for the ass that I can’t justify not doing them. So I suck it up, embrace my inner slut, and throw my all into them. Creepy old men frequently come up and tell me they enjoy watching me do them. Yes. I’m serious. (Creepy old men are so creepy.)
On this particular day, I felt like I was getting extra glances in my direction, but figured my form must have just looked extra good. I was wrong. After a few rounds I went to get a drink and upon approaching the water fountain I glanced the mirror and realized why I was getting so many looks.
That was also the day that I realized why lined sports bras were invented.
