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shoes and T-shirts


I was lifting weights last night at the Y when I ran across two intriguing images in the weight room. The first was a 30-something guy who was really tan wearing an over-sized T-shirt, bermuda shorts and flip flops. I only actually witnessed him using the chest press. His outfit screamed Maui tourist. Flip flops? In the weight room. Yeah, I said flip flops.

That's weird.

Then while I was on the Roman Chair (the torturous device where you rest your elbows and forearms on the elbow pads and let your body hang, supported by your upper body while you raise your legs in an effort to sculpt your abs) I saw another man with a curious shoe choice. He, too, was very tan. He must be in his mid-50s, had a full head of snow white hair, a T-shirt, shorts and leather loafers. No socks. Kind of like Miami Vice 20 years too late, minus the sports jacket.

When I was on the Roman Chair all I saw were his feet. Since I didn't want to gawk, and I certainly didn't want to make eye contact, I did not look up to see the rest of the image. Later I ran across him working on his triceps. Maybe these two guys have been in the sun too long working on their tans.

And while I'm talking about the weight room, why is it that most overweight, middle-aged men in the weight room think one millisecond of eye contact is akin to waving your hands over your head, jumping up and down and screaming "Come on over, talk to me!" I am not waving you in, buddy. I am trying to make sure I don't walk into you as I head to the next machine.

These guys must be desperate for attention. When I am working out I wear loose, dark exercise pants and a fitted, dark T-shirt. I don't really have a "rack" (and I'm cool with that) so by fitted I mean it's not two sizes too big, it fits but it's not tight. Again, I'm not advertising. I am a minimalistic, modest chick when it comes to clothing (and most other things). I'm not looking for attention, I'm looking to cover up the stuff society used to deem inappropriate -- collar bone to mid-thigh.

This leads me to my next tangent. I don't fixate on other people's clothing, bodies, etc. unless you shove them in my face. So I do not notice other women's midsections unless their shirts are plunging and tight and "the girls" are jostling about looking for an audience. Then it's like a trainwreck and it's hard to pull your eyes back up to their faces. I admit, in that situation I notice the wreckage and then I consciously and silently say to myself, "Eyes, eyes, eyes" in an effort to keep my eyes above their necks.

So I had to laugh at myself when I recently bought a couple of new T-shirts. Usually I wear a crew-neck shirt which has a round neckline and simply reveals the space between one's head and shoulders also known as the neck. Or if I'm feeling crazy, I wear a mock V-neck which provides a small V-shape (as the name implies) that is perhaps a half-inch in height.

I was going out on a limb when I bought some shirts with a "scoop" neck. This neckline reveals my collarbones and a total of two inches below my neck. I double-checked with my husband to see if he thought this look was too revealing, before I actually decided to keep the shirts. My point is that I don't throw my stuff out there. But then I dropped my kids off at Vacation Bible School the other day and talked with another mother whose neckline was about ten inches below her collar bones and provided an expansive view of her cleavage.

I then realized that my new shirts are pretty tame. I guess I am pretty uptight.

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Sending out a thank you: I'm sending an extra 1000 strides on the elliptical trainer to sparkspark who added me as a favorite recently. Thanks Violet!


2007-06-27 at 7:13 a.m.

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