Working out IN JEANS and a towel on your dome

I love the StairMaster or the “sweat machine” as I like to call it. Forget paper towels to wipe down the machine after my workout, I need  a mop.*

The towel in today’s picture? I understand. The jeans? No comprendo.

Stairclimber

*Part of the reason I sweat so much is because I do run/walk interval training on it. I’ve had a couple of close calls, and it is only a matter of time before a trip lands my ass on the floor. Afterwards, I fully expect awesome Janelle**, who sits at the trainer desk behind these machines at my gym, to be all “Bahaha, that is what you get for running on that thing.”

**If you are into kettlebells, check out her website. If you are into cool, genuinely nice people***, check out her website.

***The world needs more nice people.****

****How annoying am I being with asterisks?

I apologize by asking others to love you.

The next “forgot about” photo comes from one of my favorite weightlifting bloggers, Colin, over at UberBeastMode. He knows his stuff and seems like a super-nice guy. If you are a runner, still head on over and throw him a little love because he has a 7K coming up this weekend. As a “weight lifter who runs” myself, we face different challenges than those of you that consider yourself a runner first and foremost. So go and be especially encouraging to him as a favor to me. Thanks, Loves.

“So I got one today. Unfortunately actual exercise is not happening, but he’s taking up a machine while he leans up against it wearing his baggy jeans, big chain and sunglasses. I tried to get him during an actual exercise, but in his 30-45 minutes of being there he probably did 2 actual sets. :) Also I snapped another one. Not for your site, but just your own personal entertainment. This guy was wearing flannel pj’s while doing bicep curls on the incline tricep extension machine.”

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And to those fellow gym-goers who are thinking, “Oh…I want to see the flannel PJ pic!!” It is too good not to share:

PJs

Teen heartthrobs IN JEANS at the gym

Justin Bieber:

Bieber

And, Young Ones, one of the “Justin Biebers” of the generation before you – meet Jordan Knight:

JordanKnight

My Valentine

Cutie-old-man-in-jeans-at-the-gym love combined with book-reading-nerd love:

ValentineMan

 

Jeans and suspenders – so awful and somehow it is also ADORABLE.

BackDownSouthTweet

BackDownSouth

Thanks, Caroline!

Those of you interested in “proper” fashion , check out her blog, Back Down South.

“Old ladies” working out in jeans

I get nervous when I see Tweets like this one:

OldLadies

Because the first time I click the “old ladies” picture link and see some woman my age working out, I’m gonna lose my shit. LOSE. MY. SHIT. You have been warned.

Fortunately, it didn’t happen this time.
OldLadiesPicture[whew!]

Denim AND inappropriate footwear at the gym

boat

Loafers

shoes

socks

barefoot

Jorts AND jeans at the gym

JortsJeans

Fake-Like-You-Care-About-Me Week, Final Day

Thanks for the fun week, Friends. Given all the positive feedback, I may resurrect these types of posts randomly in the future. Perhaps those of you that have websites should dig out your old photos and do the same? Yeah! Yeah!

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Some final random things about me:

My faith is the most important thing in my life. Nothing compares. I know that I have done nothing and can do nothing apart from His anointing grace in my life.

I’ve known my husband since the 2nd grade and we were friends for many years before we dated. I joke about having jean-jogging “boyfriends” but the truth is that my heart belongs to just one person (but he, unfortunately, doesn’t jog in jeans).

If I had more time in my life, I’d spend it at the gym. Strength training is the core of my fitness regimen. 45-60 minutes a day six days a week on and off for 20 years now. Yep, I’m the girl with all the dudes in the “hardcore” part of the gym. I just love every minute of it. After strength training, I’m all about variety – running, kickboxing, spinning, power yoga, Pilates, Insanity, really anything – I get bored very easily and shaking things up keeps me motivated.

I feel strongly that marijuana should be legalized. [Gasp!] Seriously, the fact that there is a safe, plant-product that is not able to be legally purchased by those that need and want it is the REAL crime.

I love Pittsburgh. Seriously, if you’ve never been here, and you are rolling your eyes and letting out a “meh,” your perceptions of it are wrong. You need to visit and see for yourself. Pittsburgh is already named the world’s top 20 places to visit in 2012, and this month it made another list: World’s Most Livable City. #30. The only US city higher? Honolulu. I’m okay with that.If my husband takes a picture of me, he makes a habit of saying something hysterical when I am posing and then takes the picture when I am hunched over cracking up or have some contorted, stifled-laugh face. As a result, the majority of the photos of me that he takes look just like this one which was taken when we were first married.

Fake-Like-You-Care-About-Me Week, Day 5

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What is your dream job?

Don’t laugh. A cleaning lady. I’m not kidding. From as far back as I can remember, I thought that being a cleaning lady would be the best job in the entire world. It took me until about age 8 or 9 before I learned that “cleaning lady” was an unacceptable response to the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” But it was the truth.

I love to clean. I find REAL joy in making making dirty into clean, order out of chaos, and using cleaning products. When I babysat as a teenager, and after the kids would go to bed, I would clean. Empty out the refrigerator, scrub tubs, windows, whatever I found the most disgusting. Parents loved me.

Now I suspect that the comments for this post will be all, “Come to my house, you can do all the cleaning you want here.” If you mean it and provide me the details about your especially high level of filthiness, you may just entice me to show up on your doorstep with bucket and yellow gloves in hand.

Speaking of jobs, this picture was taken after a shift working at the Dairy Queen* and before my beautiful sister left for her prom. “Hey, Jill, go put your sticky, Mr. Misty and ice cream stained self over by your sister for a picture, okay? Now say ‘cheese.’ Wait, move over a little, we don’t want you getting hot fudge on her dress.”

*And, by the way, working at the DQ was THE BEST. A perk was that we could eat whatever we wanted for the whole shift. Do I really need to run through the cache of deliciousness that is held within those four walls?

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