Dear Under Armour People,
Not long after my ill-fated plan to take up jogging, my husband bought me a fantastic set of Under Armour gear. He had failed to realize that my body had lost interest in cooperating with all of the jostling and impact the activity caused, as these were clearly athletic clothes. Granted, that stretchy fabric looked really comfy. However, I already felt like a bit of a poser wearing yoga pants to sit on the couch after ten minutes of Wii Fit yoga as my only attempt at legitimacy. I just couldn’t pull the tags off. Deep down inside I knew I wanted to be the person entitled to wear the threads, and could not return the gift either.
Then one day it happened! After starting a pedometer-induced walking regiment, I found myself returning home with chafed thighs due to my incredible speed (and possibly poor wardrobe choices). The arm pumping action of that power walking had also left my upper arms a bit red and burning. Clearly my “injuries” were not on the same level as torn ACLs or pulled hammies, but still stood as some small sign that I had accomplished something in the name of exercise.
I did what any housewife and mother of teens, thereby negating rational, would do. I ripped the tags off that spandex, stuck a badge on my chest, threw a cape around my neck and became…PEDOMEMOM! I had earned the right.
One step at a time,
Mother, blogger, superhero
p.s. Do you sell capes?
So did they feverishly get to work designing a suit for me, you know, like E in The Incredibles? Perhaps not, but they did respond.
AND a 20% discount code! So psyched, and I think they even called me an athlete!
Current total = 37 points
Stop by Marianne's place to see who she loves this week!