Saying Hello to Muscles

In addition to cross training, I also used my week in Costa Rica to acclimate to the humidity I would experience the following week while visiting my family in Iowa. If you have ever been to Iowa in the summer, you will understand. It’s so humid that you just feel kind of sticky most of the time.

Running in Iowa is both easier and harder. Since I’m at such a much lower altitude, breathing is a lot easier. In fact, I never get out of breath, which is saying something considering I’m usually so out of breath you would think I was hyperventilating. Conversely, the air can be so thick I’m not sure whether I’m running or I should be swimming. I’m soaked when I get home and it’s not from sweat.

My mom figured the best way to contribute to my newest crazy endeavor is by doing what she does best. She took me shopping. I almost never shop unless I’m with my mom so I probably haven’t done any serious shopping since last Christmas.

We went to the mall and I headed straight towards my favorite store. I started scooping up tops, shorts, a dress and a couple of skirts and headed for the dressing room. Soon Mom came to check on me. “How does everything look in there?” She exclaimed from the door of the dressing rooms, listening for my voice to hone in on what room I was in.

Even though I’m 27 years old I always come out of the dressing room and study mom’s face for her honest opinion when I ask things like, “Does this shirt make me look like I have the shoulders of a football player?” or “Do I look transparent in this color?” or “Would it work to wear this as a shirt rather than a skirt?”

This time I replied from behind the door, “I think this is too big…”

“Which one?” Mom readies herself to fetch a smaller size of my garment of choice.

“All of them…” I said, wondering what happened. I had scooped up all my usual sizes. Sizes I had worn for years, whether I should have moved up a size or not.

I opened the door to search Mom’s face for confirmation. “Oh yeah, you are swimming in that. Hold on, I’ll get you a smaller size… in everything,” and she was off.

Under the florescent lights of the dressing room, I smiled at myself in the mirror, and welcomed the lines on the sides of my stomach that outlined, very lightly, the very hint of some abdominal muscles. I guess running over 30 miles a week does earn me some new friends: muscles.