Fit to be tied

Yesterday I went to the gym after work. On the mornings that I plan on going to the gym I pack a back pack with gym clothes and a towel. That way, I can go right after work and just change there. As I was changing, I realized I did not pack a t-shirt.

Great.

The fear of this happening always lurked in the back of my mind as a possibility. It finally snuck up and had me in a stranglehold of reality.

Realizing there was a mall right across the street, I thought I would run over there and pick up a cheap shirt on sale. So, as I was walking into Dillards... Yeah, Dillards. Who goes shopping for a work-out shirt at Dillards? Me, that's who (what's wrong with me?). So, as I was walking into Dillards, I was approached by a sales associate that must have been able to read the confusion on my face that I was there with intentions of buying clothes in which I was going to sweat profusely. Luckily for her and for me, I spotted a Nike section in a remote corner just as she was asking me if I needed help.

After I declined her assistance, she commented that I looked "as lost as a cow on afroturf." Yep. Shecalled it "afroturf." I wasn't sure the first time, but, upon its repetition, she definitely called it "afroturf" twice. Two times. Apparently this young woman has been on the giving and/or receiving of many white kids schoolyard jokes. Unfortunately, this woman was easily in her early thirties.

I finally wandered over to the Nike section to find some stuff on sale. I found some of those tighter-fitting "Dri-fit" workout shirts, and thought to myself, "I have never purchased nor have I received one of these as a gift. I must purchase one and introduce it to my stable of upper torso coverings." I found one in the color and size that I thought most appropriate to my allegiances and girth. I rang it up and went back to the gym. As soon as this shirt came over top of my head, I realized something was afoot. It tended to cling to my body and show off various contours that I was at the gym to try to remove. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I felt like the biggest poseur in the world. Like I was that guy who was trying to look the part of a fitness junkie, but my physique belied my rouse.

Needless to say, I spent $15 on a shirt that will probably never see the light of day again. The Dri-Fit technology worked, in that it captured so much water (read: man sweat) that if dropped on the scale after the workout, it would have weighed more than I do. This must be the same moisture removal technology I saw at the Olympics during the diving competitions.

So, I walked around super self conscious yesterday, which sped up my workout considerably. Maybe it will become my "speedy" workout shirt. Not only will it make me want to get out of it as soon as possible, its sheer... um... sheer will also cut down on any potential wind resistance. But, then I'll become satisfied with its performance which will lead to a feeling of being comfortable in the shirt and then I won't feel so self aware and then it will become yet another workout shirt. I never win.