Two strange things happened this week. I’m going to blame them on the early summer heat.
First, I saw a man walk up to his wife in the gym and zip up her shirt so the zipper went all the way up to the top. The couple was probably in their late 50’s, and the top she was wearing was one of those pullovers with a zipper that went about a third of the way down the front.
Her shirt wasn’t exposing anything but the skin on her sternum. I watched the exchange from across the room, and I don’t think they thought anyone was watching. At first, I was bewildered. Then I got annoyed on her behalf. Why did he feel the need to do that? Who cares if her skin is exposed? Well, clearly he does. But why?
Then on Sunday I went out early in the morning for a run. It was going to be a hot day, up around 100 degrees, so I made sure to get out early and wear something light, which on that day was my favorite tank top and a running skirt.
As I was about to turn into my road toward the end of the run, a guy drove by and whistled at me.
Let me make three things clear.
One: Absolutely nobody is sexy at 6:30 in the morning at the end of a sweaty run.
Two: I don’t like people whistling at me, especially someone going by me in a speeding car. The only person who I don’t mind whistling at me is my husband.
Three, and most importantly, what I wear on a run or at the gym has nothing to do with anyone else.
What I wear is for me. It all has a purpose, and it has absolutely nothing to do with attraction.
I wear tank tops because I hate restrictive workout clothes, especially in the summer.
I wear running skirts because they’re really comfortable.
I wear leggings so I don’t bang up my legs at the gym. (Plus these awesome ones from Happy Puppies Athletic Wear have giant pockets on the side that fit my iPhone so I can rock out to my Spotify list.)
So please, if you’re a guy and you’re reading this, think twice before whistling at a woman running by you. Let your wife wear her zipper top however she wants. It’s not about you.
And ladies, let’s all make a pact not to judge anyone else’s clothing decisions at the gym. If someone wants to wear pants with pug dogs plastered all over them, don’t judge. Those may be their lucky pants, the ones they ran their first 5k in last year. And hey, pugs are pretty cool little doggies.
Let your fitness freak flag fly, my friends. And if that includes pants with pugs, so be it. You be you.
Just your average stopwatch-toting suburban mom, looking to make some locals sweat and curse my name.