Baby Got Back


My favorite shirt - seriously..have it. love it.

Workout:  Leg Strength & Stretching Yoga

California has finally decided to bring on the heat.  It’s been awesome – if you’re into totally into that drenched in sweat look.

In fact today I was all set to go for a run but at 4, it was about 86 degrees and I postponed it.

Any mother knows this is a critical error.  By the time I got home and cooked, ate dinner, planted the tomatoes & blueberries (what?! seriously I planted things) and handled the chaos known as laptop crashing and losing my 7 year old’s cheetah report (*le* big freakin’ *sigh*) I never got back to the trail.

I did, however, spend 45 minutes watching my son type 79 (you counted right!) words into a Word document because he insists typing is faster than writing.

The good news is that I stayed in my running clothes all day so everyone assumes I ran.  Score one for keeping up appearances and, score two for justifying my total and complete lack of hygiene for the day.

So let me give you a little back story on today’s little experiential nugget.

When my precious son came home from his 3rd week of kindergarten we had the following conversation.

Vanilla:  Mom, you look like the girls at my school.

Me:  (puzzled) What do you mean?

Vanilla:  You know.  You LOOK like them.

Me:  No tiger I don’t know.  What do you mean.

Vanilla:  Well you know.  Your body.  The way you look looks like them.

Me: (obviously getting annoyed).  Which girls honey? *wishfully thinking it was the teachers or at least the student teachers)

Vanilla:  The upper graders.

Super. Awesome.

Truth be told, I’ve come to accept my pencil shaped hips and herald myself as the queen of not really needing a sports bra…but that put it all in perspective.  I really did look like an 11-year old girl.  And this was evident even to my 5 year-old son.

There was, however, one perk to this…I never had to buy new pants/shorts.  I basically bought when the styles changed (and even that’s a stretch people…).  Beyond that I could still technically squeeze into those hideous acid wash tapered mom-style jeans if I wanted to.


So old you almost feel naked.

Enter the most perfect pair of shorts ever.  I took those AWFUL carpenter jeans (because I really needed a hammer loop on my jeans to go to homeroom?) from the 90’s that I wore to death and years ago I chopped them to make my favorite shorts in the world.  Putting these on is like home for me.  They are so worn and so broken in, it’s like I hardly have anything on at all.

I slipped them on and it was like hitting my stride on a great run.  until. i. tried. to. button. them.

Apparently when I went from casually running to really honing in on longer distances about 15 months ago my butt has taken notice.

Let me get really specific.  Once I ramped up from half marathons to the full marathon training…

I got myself a bootay.

I had noticed some due to the fact that I can only zip and sit in about 2 pairs of my work pants as of late.

I found this to be totally ironic because just this morning I was reading another blog (Shut Up & Run…stop right now and read this…seriously most of what she writes is my brain without a filter) where she complained about having no bum.

Apparently long distances have made me embrace my inner J-Lo.  I now need to up the ante on my work pants (I look like a sausage in my suit pants), my shorts, and even my running spandex because I feel like I’m trying to put a roll of canned biscuits back in the container when I put them on.

Lesson here (I swear there’s one…):  I hear everyone talk about doing this to lose weight or trying this exercise to get in specific shape.  But each and every body is different and responds accordingly.  I’ve gotten curvier (okay at least on the bottom half and even that might be a stretch…I probably look 14 from the neck down) and put on some weight running…for others the pounds shed…and yet others, nothing really changes. So remember….

Run for the health of it. 

3 thoughts on “Baby Got Back

  1. Pingback: Gro-in Pains | Striding Mom

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