I’ve been raving about my new sitting shirt for weeks now on Facebook and feel like I need to let the rest of the world know about this revolutionary piece of clothing.
I was wandering around the clearance rack at Ross when I spied a fancy little thing with a cowl and a nice length that would cover even the visiblest of granny panty lines. It beckoned me in. As I got closer to it, I realized it had shiny reflector strips and a little zippered cellphone-sized pocket. Oh holy hand grenade, it was a running shirt.
I bought it anyway, even though at this point, I don’t ever plan to run again, unless I move to Sunnydale and vampires take over our town.
I tried on the little jogging leggings that go with these things and almost had what my mother would’ve called “a conniption fit” in the dressing room as my thighs were transformed into wriggling sausages. Every dimpled piece of cellulite winked from behind and betwixt my aging nether region and I learned instantly that you can rock a running shirt without running but heaven help the woman who tries to rock the pants without the muscled quads to go under them.
I would wear the shirt with thick yoga pants and my head held high.
Like a good blogger, I of course posted this to Facebook, because if a blogger breathes without social media knowing, did it actually happen? No it did not.
December 29:
I just bought a sporty running top from the clearance rack at Ross. I do not run. I feel like such a poser (and also am flashing back to high school with the word poser). This is what happens at the new year. “This shirt will make me get healthy after all the holiday sitting and eating.” No it won’t. If you see me in my new running shirt, I have not just come from a jog, where I stashed my phone in the little zippered pocket. I have not and do not let me fool you. I will be wearing this shirt while sitting. Always with the sitting. I take sitting to a new level. My new sitting shirt is going to go great with my fuzzy socks and big bowl of popcorn.
I wore the shirt. It felt amazing, like I was so totes athletic. I thought about telling people I’d just come from a run. I went to Starbucks and stood in line next to an actual runner. She smelled like the bottom of a gym bag. I smelled like lavender essential oil and natural hippie deodorant. I was not going to pull this off.
A few days later, I noticed that the little ads in my Facebook feed had changed from Free People and Anthropologie (high-end porn for thirtysomething moms like me) to Athleta and Adidas. Sporty brands had become my online stalkers. I wanted my flowy boho fashion back.
January 15
Facebook keeps trying to get me to buy athletic wear. Doesn’t it know me at all? Is this because I posted about my new sitting shirt (dormant running shirt)? My sitting shirt has been amazing. The thumb holes kept the sleeves from riding up as I reached my hand into the popcorn bowl and its wicking qualities kept me from pitting out while driving my minivan. I also took it through a light stroll around the grocery store to test its performance. It prefers sitting, but could handle the walking as well. I’m a satisfied customer and will be shopping the Ross clearance rack again.
People asked for a photo, and like a good blogger (I will do anything to keep you people happy.), I acquiesced.
January 24
Okay, as requested, a photo of my new sitting shirt. I don’t feel like the pic does it justice, with its sleek, wicking qualities and reflective strips for night sitting. Also, I’m not using the thumb holes in this pic, as they make me feel all bindy when gesturing with my hands. This morning I used it to sit at a meeting for our local IF conference, and it performed admirably as I guzzled coffee and stuffed rosemary potatoes in my face. I feel sportier already.
I may have posted the photo on Twitter. Which alerted the runner tweet-bots. The noose was tightening.
January 28
You guys. “Real Runners” just started following me on Twitter. They must’ve seen me in my new sitting shirt and mistook me for one of them. See, this is the kind of false advertising I was worried about. I wear one running shirt and now people have fallen under the misconception that I, indeed, do run. LIES. I do walk quickly from time to time, but only when in the grocery store or if we’re late to church. I’m feeling queasy about this sitting shirt. It’s only a matter of time before people start inviting me to run 10Ks.
As you can see, this is getting out of hand. If I start blogging about carb-loading and I’m not just referring to my daily intake of waffle fries, call an intervention. I’m afraid the runners will hunt me down and take me with them.
But it might be worth it, because my new sitting shirt is the bomb diggity. Seriously, where has this spandexy goodness been all my life? And the little cellphone holder is a perfect fit for my Nerds.
I’ve decided all new purchases need purposes attached to them, like the red plethery dress that just lured me in on the Anthro clearance section (PORN I tell you). It’s my new Writing Dress, but that’s for another post.
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No runners were harmed in the writing of this post. Possibly the other women in the Ross dressing room who had to see my thighs in the squeezy thin jogger leggings. But all the runners are fine.
