My demise-a yoga pant story

Since when did buying workout pants become more difficult than finding a flattering bathing suite?

I blame this on the yoga pant fad. I was perfectly happy wearing my comfortable, swooshy, baggy, sweat pants back when I was 15. They were part of my cheerleading uniform with my name and bulldog embroidered on the top. (GO DOGS!)

Do swooshy pants even exist anymore?

Do people born in the 90s even know what the hell I’m talking about?

Because I got a new job, I had to start a new routine. I was going to get rid of my 24 Hour Fitness membership until I realized there was one in the same building as my new profession. Waking up and going to the gym in the morning would allow me to avoid traffic without having to sacrifice sleep.

My first morning at the new gym I chose to do the stair climber. This 24 Hour Fitness has several of these machines that all happen to reside in front of a mirror. This means while I am on the climber the reflection in the mirror is of my back.

At least this is what I thought.

This gym is small and the ceiling is next to my head while I climb. I don’t know if you noticed, but most ceilings have lights in them. As I’m climbing on the stair climber that resides in front of a mirror next to the ceiling with lights, I look in the mirror that is behind me and see a white ass staring at me.

With low ceilings, and fluorescent lights made out x-ray vision, it was no match for cheap yoga pant material to hide my white ass.

I was in a difficult position. I had to choose to continue to work out and pretend as if my ass isn’t as white as it is, or admit defeat and stop working out and hide in shame?

I continued to do my workout. White ass and all.

That afternoon I added “Buy new yoga pants” to my to-do list. I went against all the advice from fellow yoga pant wearers and went to Target instead of Old Navy because I’m lazy and it is the closest store to my house. While walking up and down the aisles of potential yoga pants, I hand tested all the pairs of interest. This isn’t as sexy of a test as it sounds; I simply placed my palm in the pants and stretched to see if I could see my skin.

Every pair of yoga pants. Every single pair. Every fucking pair man! I could see my skin.

I bought shorts.

So the next day I was in the gym wearing a pair of shorts I opted to simply buy and not try on. The shorts fit perfectly around my hips, but were slightly too tight around the thighs. If I did any form of jumping, the shorts became panties. 

On top of inappropriately short shorts, the x-ray vision fluorescent lights had an impeccable capability of not only showing my white ass in yoga pants, but also emphasizing my cellulite. 

Gyms need to adopt stripper lighting.

Needless to say, I was back at the store and this time took the advice of fellow yoga pant wearers and went with a few pairs from Old Navy. They are a little thicker, but I still don’t have the courage to look behind me into the mirror while on the stair climber. Instead, I try and get the one stair climber in front of the storage door.

This is what I have I learned from this experience:

1. Fluorescent lighting is the devil and clearly invented by a man.

2. I have a new found appreciation for how my body looks in a bikini.

3. Out of all the terrible styles we have brought back from the 90s, why isn’t swooshy pants one of them?

Til next time friends!

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