I'll Never Learn

What I learned this Monday is that I’ll never learn when it comes to sun exposure. That “little” bit of redness I mentioned picking up at the lake yesterday, well, it turned into a lot of redness last night. Yes, as the hours rolled on, the red got deeper, more violent and of course, sore. It was a little uncomfortable to sleep, but when I hit the weight room this morning and had to put the squat bar and all it’s weight on my shoulders and neck, well that was a whole other experience. I tried to put as much padding as possible between me and the bar, but really, it wasn’t helping. Everything was just stinging and irritated, so I just had to suck it up.

This happens to me every year. And before anyone thinks of getting smart and mentioning “Sunscreen”, I was wearing the stuff. I guess I just needed a higher factor. I’ve traveled so many places on this planet, both very hot and very cold and now that I’ve settled in the former of those climates, I think a part of me refuses to accept that my skin has not yet adapted to the more intense conditions. But apparently I will never be the person that turns the lovely shades of brown in the sun. My skin is now and will always be Irish. No matter where I take it in the world, my skin is not confused, it knows who it is and will not change or adapt for anyone.

Other news, today I was on the track minding my own business. The weather was hot as hell, 88 degrees (Fahrenheit), that’s about 28-30 degrees (Celsius), so I was really looking forward to finishing my warm-up, jumps and throws so I could get my sweats off and my shorts on. However, when I went to pull out my spikes and shorts, all I got was my spikes. Shit. I had forgotten to put my shorts in my bag. This was not good. There was no way I could sprint in my sweats but I was really stuck for options. I thought about just sucking it up and trying to get through the rest of the session with the sweats on, but just couldn’t come around to that idea at all. Then I thought I'd have to jump in the car and drive back to the house for the damn shorts. But I was already into the session and was getting irritated with that idea. What to do? What to do? Hang on a second. What underwear am I wearing today? As luck would have it, my choice of undergarment was a pair of boy shorts, in black. Eureka. That’s what I would do; I would sprint in my underwear.

So I put on the spikes and whipped of the sweats. I have to say I did feel slightly exposed. And even though it may not seem it, based on what us female athletes actually compete in, but I am very self-conscious in anything skimpy. It didn’t bother me too much when I raced, cos seriously, I had more important things to worry about then what I was wearing. And most of the time your already choking from anxiety and nerves, that you don’t need your racing attire to feel like it’s strangling you too. In these situations of intense pressure, less is absolutely more. But in a non-pressure situation like a training session, I was feeling slightly uncomfortable. I kept telling myself, “They look like shorts. They look like shorts. There is definitely a bit more ass cheek peeping out, but definitely, they look like shorts.” I eventually got over myself when I realized how lucky I was that I didn’t decided to wear the alternative today……..a thong. Can you imagine the horror? All those recreational joggers and walkers would have had me arrested for indecent exposure. That or I could have ended up with a lot of 1 dollar bills?!?