Day 85- Inside Out Sweatshirt
My comfy lounge pants shouldn't get all the glory. They are only half of the total relaxation comfort outift picture (my own version of the fleecedo- the sweatcedo?). The other half? My twelve year old inside out sweatshirt.
Anyone who has known me and lived with me in the past twelve years could easily identify it in a lineup. It's a Western High School Track sweatshirt, maroon and gray on the inside and fuzzy and white on the outside. I don't remember exactly why I started wearing it the wrong way, but once it went inside out the first time, I've never looked back. It traveled with me to years of track meets. It laid with me under many "quiet trees" (the areas we designated for focus and peace before races). It was waiting for me on the infield to congratulate me every time I qualified for an important race, and it comforted me every time my coach forced me to run the 400m. Somehow, magically, it warmed me when I was cold and helped cool me when I was overheating. Perhaps I'm onto something with the whole inside out business after all.
My sweatshirt and I have retired from any type of athletics more serious than a romp with the Wii fit and the occasional run and bowling game. Hopefully that will change someday when I share my love of track with my own team. When I come out of retirement, my sweatshirt will make its triumphant return to the public eye. Until then, I know that it is content to wait faithfully for me at home, the perfect complement to any pair of comfy lounge pants and any Friday night.
Thank you, inside out sweatshirt, you made my day.
Anyone who has known me and lived with me in the past twelve years could easily identify it in a lineup. It's a Western High School Track sweatshirt, maroon and gray on the inside and fuzzy and white on the outside. I don't remember exactly why I started wearing it the wrong way, but once it went inside out the first time, I've never looked back. It traveled with me to years of track meets. It laid with me under many "quiet trees" (the areas we designated for focus and peace before races). It was waiting for me on the infield to congratulate me every time I qualified for an important race, and it comforted me every time my coach forced me to run the 400m. Somehow, magically, it warmed me when I was cold and helped cool me when I was overheating. Perhaps I'm onto something with the whole inside out business after all.
My sweatshirt and I have retired from any type of athletics more serious than a romp with the Wii fit and the occasional run and bowling game. Hopefully that will change someday when I share my love of track with my own team. When I come out of retirement, my sweatshirt will make its triumphant return to the public eye. Until then, I know that it is content to wait faithfully for me at home, the perfect complement to any pair of comfy lounge pants and any Friday night.
Thank you, inside out sweatshirt, you made my day.
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