Of Course I Need that XS Pit-Stained Tee. From High School

When I moved in w/ B, he noted that I had a lot of t-shirts. Like, A LOT, a lot. This is true. He may have casually asked if I needed twenty-thousand ratty old t-shirts. I then may have casually asked him if he needed all the old boxes from every new electronic/appliance he’s aquired in the past five years. Like, every. Single. One.

B, being an adult and realizing that relationships mean compromising, saw my point and proceeded to break down most of the boxes and put them in the recycling. I silently cheered at all my new closet space and continued to fold my twenty-thousand t-shirts. I’m not a great compromiser.

Besides, I do need all my shirts. All twenty-thousand. What else would I wear to the gym? Form-fitting, moisture-wicking workout gear? Ha. Being cheap thrifty doesn’t really allow for $99 Lululemon yoga pants and $40 Nike tanks.

Cotton tees and shorts were the only world I knew. Sure, when I played tennis in college I fell in love with our mesh skirts (but that had more to do w/ the fact that they were perfect for going out in the night before a match; I could tuck beers in the spandex w/out looking suspicious b/c that’s what tennis skirts are for AND if I happened to pass out in said skirt I would be ready to go the next morning when all my teammates were struggling out of their skinny jeans).

I’m fine with my collection of various cotton tees. Most are from college, but I’ve collected a bunch along the way from the various races I’ve done. Bravo to those races that give a cotton tee instead of springing for the moisture-wicking material; that’s the last time I’ll make the mistake of running for your charity (kidding...maybe).

When I went down to Philly for the Broad Street Run, Sarah and I went to Dick’s so we could get cute new tops for the race. I had trained long and hard for this, so I figured rewarding myself with something that would allow me not to feel like I was being weighed down in my own sweat was reasonable. I spent probably half an hour in the dressing room and wanted everything. $100 later, I had four new pieces. This is exactly why I avoid stores like Dick’s.

If you run in proper athletic gear all the time, I don’t need to tell you what a difference it makes. If you don’t, let me tell you WHAT A DIFFERENCE IT MAKES. It doesn’t prevent the sweat or anything, but it stops it from making you feel like you’re running in 20 pounds of lead.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a bottomless running expense account. I’m not a snob changed woman who only wears Athletica and UnderArmour. But last night when I went for my run in the 80 degree heat and humidity, that $100 spent at Dick’s was worth every penny.

Sometimes, you just gotta treat yo self.

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