Some people are concerned about what they look like when they exert themselves. It can be embarrassing. For instance, my face turns a deep, dark pink no matter how regularly I’ve been working out. I also have a responsive cooling system, so I get rather shiny. As I get absorbed in my activity, strange noises sometimes escape. I attempt some degree of grace of movement as I begin to exercise, but about half way through I go into survival mode – just breath and meet the day’s goal. I think it is most startling for observers under the age of 30.
Consider that solitary young man who was walking obliviously in the runners’ lane on the indoor track a couple of weeks ago. I couldn’t see him until I rounded the corner in my final push. Then he was a mere 20 some feet in front of me and all I could think of came right out of my mouth, “Get out of my way!” What he thought as he glanced back, then quickly stepped aside, I can only imagine. Possibly I reminded him of a pyscho-rhinoceros. Greg had just given me coaching on how to get more momentum from my effort. Swerving was not the best option, but I would have done it if it had been necessary, hopefully while staying on my feet.
I try to dress with this inevitable color scheme in mind. Sometimes I go for the camouflage effect and just wear that pink. Then I am “the pink blob” with no identifiable features, unless of course I have on the pink t-shirt that I was wearing when I crashed on my bike in Taiwan. It has some scary looking rips and tears in the shoulder that I figure make me look mean. Grrr. This can be a boost to my state of mind when surrounded by tough guys in the free weight section.
Strangely enough, my husband bought me a cold weather running shirt for Christmas. It is the correct shade of pink. I asked him if that meant he would be taking me running. He said, “Not until I get you a running helmet!” I apparently scare him in a different sort of way.