Beware the stretchy black pants!  They are addicting and truly habit forming.  Yoga pants are the LBD (little black dress) of exercise attire; everyone looks great in them and probably owns at least one pair.  And you can wear them everywhere and feel put together, except maybe the fancy dinner then you are back to the real LBD.  I just want to wear my stretchy black pants, my SBPs, every day. They are so comfy and cool looking, even if you don’t plan to sweat in them. 

 

Brave Soul.
It’s an ideal relationship at first blush.  I love my SBPs and they love me back no matter my mood or condition. It’s like a second skin and I feel so happy, healthy and free.  They never complain about anything I say or do.  They give and they give and they give.  And any pop of color pairs amazingly, so versatile and practical.  It’s too good to be true.  I want all my relationships to be like this one.
There in lies the set-up.  Too much of a good thing adds up to big trouble and in a relationship, it’s crushing.  It all seems so great, me and my yoga pants.  We did everything together like exercise or shopping or both in the same day.  Sometimes we were at the gym and sometimes on a nice walk in the neighborhood or a round of tennis.  We ate meals together and plenty of snacks.  Our favorite winter menu, the C Diet.  It’s anything starting with the letter “C”, and in particular chocolate, chips, cookies and cakes.  Cold weather brings on the yummiest cravings.  It was pure bliss, BUTT beware.

True Blues
I decided to take a break from my friend, the SBP.  I caught spring fever and needed to go to Nordstrom for help.  I wanted to dress for the occasion so I put on my fancy pants, my True Religion jeans I hadn’t seen in awhile.  They are a close second to my SBPs, just not quite as flexible.  More honest and True you might say.  My jeans missed me because they were hugging me pretty tight.  I must have left them in the dryer too long and this is pay back I thought. Darn it.  I hope they stretch out, forgive me a bit.  An hour later, I’m getting grumpy.  These pants are sure mad at me. They are not giving at all.  I decide to show my big strong back side and wear them anyway. 

At Nordstrom the sales girl is showing me the new spring clothes and we bring in a collection to the dressing room.  Every pair of pants seemed snug.  “No, I know my size.  Really.”  I say it a little defensively as she suggests bringing the next size up.  She doesn’t believe me and I’m not sure I believe me either.  Some are too tight because the designers are making them for non-muscle bearing gals, like 12 year-olds.  I’m sure that is the issue I tell myself, after all I have been to the gym with my SBP friend.  As I try things on, I can’t help but overhear the lady in the dressing room next to me. 

“Can you bring me a 24?  The 28 is too big.”  Her problem is exactly the opposite of me; she needs to gear down the designer sizes masked as size 6 to a size 2.  She started out a size smaller than me and she needs to go even smaller.  NO WAY!  SHE must be a hundred!  I saw her walk in and thought, “WOW!  She’s pretty hip for a hundred years old.”  I really was genuinely impressed and genuinely horrified. I was going up in sizes as fast as she was going down.  Next time I try on clothes, I’ll go with my own vanity sizing.  I’ll start with a WAY bigger size and feel triumphant when I can INSIST on two sizes smaller.  Really I MUST!

Tough Love.

I am a sweaty mess in that dressing room and I am not in the right pants for sweating. I’m not really in the right pants for anything.  What happened?  This is so embarrassing.  I think I’ve been in a false state of heaven, an unhealthy relationship.  I need some tough love.  My jeans were trying to tell me and I didn’t get it until now.  Too much of a good thing, or give, was making me feel invincible, impervious to C Diets as in C-R-A-P.  Something my jeans would never allow without making me feel it.

This was an eye-opener.  Like in any relationship, it’s good to mix it up and now I know better.  It’s ok to have the steady-eddy that make you feel good but it’s also important to keep the friends, the ones that tell you the truth, like my True Religions.  I think I am going to restrict my SBPs to exercise, their original purpose and eat my lunch in my jeans. It keeps us all honest and that’s a really good thing for any relationship.

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