Saturday, April 18, 2015

Body Porridge and Bunchies

Have you ever been out jogging in a busy park or around a running track and really viewed someone's gait? Not in a creepy way, but just in my observations of people and being in the running arena, I tend to try to improve my lope because I feel clumsy while running. I suppose it is something that grabs my attention because I feel awkward and clunky in the first mile. My co-worker said the same is for her and the first mile and a half is painful until she reaches her stride. It might take me longer and by the time I reach it, the race is over.

While at the indoor running track at the university last night (it was raining bitches!), I felt like a three legged gazelle, only in slow mode. As I rounded the corners, I was often passed by 20 year old students who were full of piss and vinegar. Or maybe they were just younger and more fit. Some had professional strides and I tried to mimic them while behind which was quite comical. It made me feel like a toddler who mimics her parents. I don't really remember that, but it must be so if they say so and mine did. History repeats itself.

Then there were those last night who made me cringe because they were so uneven, I was sure they were being poked left, right, then left again. Some stood out to me because I could sympathize with their struggle. They were moving their left leg forward but the right leg was in the way and the thigh friction was creating more work for them. I remember those days and carrying that extra weight. I was blessed with Ebert thunder thighs and even when I am fit, I have big thighs. I guess I should not complain, because they make me strong like bull.

But my attention was not on myself, but on those forging ahead of me one step at a time. It made me kind of sad but then I thought, "They are here. Cheers to them!", and it was fleeting moments before I got into my music again and galloped around like Richard Simmons chasing his tutu in the wind.

What about those who have bunched undies?

I mean ...when that happens to me, I do that straddle yank and get them right out of my crack before they cut my vagina in half. There is no pride in the gym. Guys pull on their junk at every turn. Girls are kind of different. They let it ride too long before intervening in the vagina choking.  I jogged around as the bunchers passed me not even phased by the chafing and choking going on.

There are times it is not convenient to be behind people on the track. For instance, when a fast sprinter jolts by you and you get a whiff of the most odiferous aroma of clash of the sweat globs and body porridge. Your face instantly grimaces while you zig and zag, slow and speed up to get out of the cloud of funk. It is to no avail. Inevitably, you inhale mass quantities of pungent air which is like a shart in the sense it has substance and you can taste it on your tongue. Well, I have never tasted a shart, but I can imagine it is the same as tasting someone's body porridge. What's worse? They lap you again and again and again.

In times like these, I appreciate at my age it is not essential to look good, but more important to feel good and smell presentable. After all, I am gunning for finishing, just finishing...not finishing first. Firsts are like the Holy Grail at my age.

For the love of my vagina, I have "gym undies." Those are the ones which don't bunch, cut, or fall down. No butt flossers. They would definitely strangle the crack and cut the hoohah. And who wants that? It's not like the guys in the gym are looking for flossers or commandos...they are looking for fit gym bunnies with a  Barbie face. I don't qualify nor would I want to but at the college stage, there are girls who work out and those who go to the gym to hook up.

Now...back to the important stuff...gym undies are the ones that are perfect for your bottom comfort and they vent the furnace. With spandex being the best choice of bottom running attire, the furnace gets humid and the chimney has to be swept after a good workout.

On top, you need a good quality sports brassiere so the girls don't hit you in the face or the vagina, depending on your elasticity. Some people prefer to tuck them in their spandex, but I find that pinches. So, I opt to make a uni-boob out of them in my Under Armor sports bra. If you get a size smaller, they really squish in there nice and you feel like high school. A good cruddy t-shirt will surely detract the shit magnets from  you and you will be in your own world, free of gym meat markets.

Yes, you might ask who would want a broken down nag of 47, but you would be surprised at the crowds that flock me. Not really, but it sounded like a magnificent fantasy. I'm sure I'm the token "old guy" and they make fun of  me just as I observe their uneven gaits and bunchies.

With my running attire advice, you might be prone to the critics, but they don't share their fashion feedback so who cares if they point and whisper. You will run like the wind and not break wind, nor will you strangle your vagina and everything will be in its place.

Socks. Socks are critical along with your shoes. Quality is important and socks should have a fit band to go above your heel so you don't have blisters. Shoes must be "on fleek" as my kiddo says which I think is the dumbest hip urban slang. I mean, where do they come up with that? At least groovy and swell made sense. Anysillystuff, the dogs have to be protected because they hold you up for a life time and when they hurt, you feel it in your vagina.

Hair is styled in a messy bun. It keeps the sweaty strands from constantly drooling on your neck. Pony tails are old school and beat you like a mother as well as attack the person in the next lane. You need to drive in your own lane and that includes your hair.

Your head sweat will blend in with your back sweat and grime to create great body porridge leading down to blend with bewb sweat and butt crack sludge. This is a problem if you sweat like Hillary Clinton during Emailgate.  No one wants to see your butt crack sweat marks and so this eliminates anything grey. Black is the best choice. Next is navy blue.

You can see the problem here with boob sweat, improper holdage, and a vagina full of body porridge signified by her peeking down there .Never mind she has a figure to die for and the fact she picked a great workout color. I always wear outfits like this to the gym.
It's much better to have a uni-boob which sports bras provide if you get the right smash. Now, I would suggest you wear a shirt over this and probably change your bottomage because this looks like a beach hooker trying to be a runner. Never mind she has a body to die for.


Even in my darkest days of workout bliss, I could never build up enough body porridge to compete with some of these college kids. Some days I feel like I am fighting a war of clean air and particle contamination.  Nor did I dress like a hooker at the gym. Distractions are terrible.

Boys...put your shirts back on!

1 comment:

  1. Don't you ever believe that guys don't look for ass wedges and camel toes in a gym. It is in our genes to do that (unless they like men's junk). And if you are worried about that stuff, don't wear any undies. If, on the other hand, you are worried about a camel toe, cut a piece of tile and slide in over the hooch. At least it will give the guys something to think about and maybe slow them down some.

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