I’m not a pretty sweater.

on May 20, 2008 in Ze Bloggy Goodness with 7 comments by

I bet you don’t. I bet you are a pretty sweater. And that makes me jealous of you.

I see ladies all the time in grocery stores or Wal-Mart or eating lunch with their kids who have obviously just come from the gym. The spandex outfits are perfectly matched and they carry themselves with an air of spunk. Like, “While you were teaching my child how to read, I was on the elliptical. And I am exhausted!”

Don’t get me started.

They are the women who go to exercise during their lunch break and somehow lose 6 pounds but only show a wee bit of sweat around their collar bone. It’s really more of a sheen, not a sweat.

They are the women like the high schooler today in the gym- I call her “Sassy 17”. She worked out for a solid hour with JEWELRY ON and HER HAIR DOWN. She’s doing the row boat machine thingy with her hair blowing in the breeze. Then Sassy 17 grabs her phone and starts talking like she’s been sitting around. No huffing or puffing. Just checkin’ in with her galpals. Back to rowing. But no ponytail necessary.

Then…. there is me.

I am an ugly sweater.

My face? It turns a violent shade of red. My hair? It’s like I have my own irrigation system up there. Soaked. In minutes. My shirt? It looks like someone strategically tie died it… in the most unflattering places. Jewelry? Please. My ring would squeeze my finger like an anaconda. No thanks.

And so there I am. Between Sassy 17 and Ninja Vlad, my trainer. [That’s really his name. The Vlad part. The Ninja part is just because.] And I look like I’ve been through the carwash.

It could be worse. At least I’m not a disgusting sweater. We all know that guy at the gym. And let me say, Disgusting Sweater, that I had sympathy for you until you LAID YOUR NASTY SELF DOWN ON MY MAT TO STRETCH YOUR BACK.

I just threw up a little in my mouth remembering it.

The upside? At least I’m exercising.

The downside? I sweat like a man but lift weights like a school girl.

Pride hath no home on a blog.

[If you are a single gentleman that is considering or has ever considered dating me, please disregard this blog post. It is all completely false… ish… ahem….and for the pure enjoyment of my readership. Sorta. In reality, I resemble Sassy 17. Call me “Sassy 27”. Uhhh… let’s just not go on a jog, okay?]


  1. jenny
    posted on May 20, 2008 at 11:56 AM  |  reply

    Girl I’m always the most red-faced, sweat-ridden girl in my aerobics class. I just make a point to not talk to anyone after class and run to my car for shelter!

  2. brad
    posted on May 20, 2008 at 12:11 PM  |  reply

    There is a guy at the Y who sweats so much that when he works out on the elliptical machine, sweat flies off him in a 5 ft. radius. The whole floor is wet around him when he is done. And to top it off, he is creepy. I mean I tell my wife to stay out of his line of site creepy.

  3. Amy Rakes
    posted on May 20, 2008 at 1:00 PM  |  reply

    I’ve got you beat. Back when I was in shape, I worked out with a trainer named Marvelous, but you can call him Marvel. He would push me so hard that I would throw up in the middle of the gym. I knew I was in trouble when he would move our exercises closer to the trashcan. I would rather be an ugly sweater than a puker.

  4. Brad Huebert
    posted on May 20, 2008 at 3:00 PM  |  reply

    Okay, I have the sweat story to top ’em all. I’m an Old Spice Deoderant user. Original recipe. None of this “Alpine Meadow” stuff. Give me the classic aroma or give me death.

    Anyhoo, I have learned the hard way: DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT apply Old Spice Deoderant when you are already hot and sweaty and wearing a tank top and going for a long walk in public.

    I was on a mission trip and found myself in exactly that situation, when one of my team members cried out, “Hey, what’s up with your armpits?!”

    I looked down… and saw that the Old Spice had schlocked itself into a thick white foam that I could swipe off with my finger and flick at people if I had been so crude.

    So yeah. Learn from me, all ye j pit-challenged masses.

  5. Dionna
    posted on May 20, 2008 at 7:55 PM  |  reply

    This post cracked me up. I totally know the moms you’re talking about. Me? Me – I’m lucky if I can cram in 20 minutes on my treadmill during my day. And then I need to recurl my hair afterwards. 🙂

  6. Katie
    posted on May 20, 2008 at 9:09 PM  |  reply

    I am adding you to my humor list after this post.

  7. Ashleigh
    posted on May 21, 2008 at 9:48 PM  |  reply

    My face ends up looking like a tomato by the time we’re done with the warm-up portion of my weight-lifting class. I’m not an excessive sweater, but the intensity of my “cheeks aflame” has even had my instructor asking me several times if I’m really doing okay. Yep, I’m fine. My head might explode, but I’m doing great.

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