Back in the dead days of this blog, during my four-month hiatus, I went through something that was both funny and embarrassing... though more the former than the latter. I didn't have a chance to blog about it but just remembered this event. It's pretty vivid in my mind, so I decided to blog about it now.
Before my oldest daughter started kindergarten, I took my girls every Wednesday to the local library for story time. At 10 was the story time for all ages and at 11 the big kids' story time, ages three and up. My girls enjoyed it quite a bit, so I always made it a point of going. I'd often go to the gym first, get a run in, and go the library afterward. It was a great way to spend a Wednesday morning as it ate up several hours and got both my body and my girls' minds engaged.
For some reason, this particular morning I had gotten off to a late start. The day-care part of the gym opens at 8, and I had planned for a 40-minute run. Had I gotten there right at 8, I would have had enough time to get my run in, shower and make it to the library in plenty of time. As it stood, I got the gym at about 8:30 and would have just enough time to run, shower and go to the library.
I checked the girls into the Kid's Club, stowed my clothes in a locker and found a treadmill. I got down to business and started running. I felt good, felt refreshed and was anticipating the library visit.
But somewhere around the 20th minute, I started ticking off the things I needed to do after getting off the treadmill. I had to shower, get dressed and get the girls. Just then, though, I realized I'd forgotten something vital.
I had left my underwear at home.
Great. I had a pair of underwear of course but I was wearing them. I sighed. And gave myself three options, none of which included not going to the library.
1) Stop. Get off the 'mill. Get the girls. Go home. Change.
2) Finish the run. Shower. Put sweaty underwear back on.
3) Finish the run. Shower. Go commando.
I kept running and quickly eliminated the first option. I did not like the idea of stopping my run. I knew that if I would stop I'd not be happy the rest of the day. Nothing worse than cutting a good workout short.
So that left me two choices. To wear or not to wear. I thought since nobody would know what was going on I could get away with either so it was just a matter of what I felt most comfortable with. And I did not like the idea of putting on dirty underwear after taking a shower. Dirty shorts, I'd grit my teeth. A dirty shirt, I'd look for a jacket. But dirty underwear... not a chance.
Commando I would go.
I got off the treadmill, hurried up and showered and got dressed sans undies. I wore shorts and a t-shirt (it was in the middle of the summer). The only thing that I needed to concern myself with was making sure my shorts did not fall. I wore a belt and tightened it tighter than normal. My shorts were long, down to around my knees, so they weren't going to rise up and reveal anything. And I just had to secure my shirt from rising up and showing crackage when I sat down.
The library went well. My girls enjoyed the day as they did every other time I went, although at the end I was happy to leave the library. I was pretty sure nobody but me knew that the only father there that day did not have any undies on.
But I did it all for my girls... and for the sake of the workout.
The run must go on!