Of the few things I've come to learn in my wise age of 34 is this, no way in hell will I ever be telling a story that begins with, "Well Phil and I met at the gym one night, it was love at first sight and we've been together ever since."
That my friends, is not in my future. And here's why...
It's a Wednesday night and I'm at the gym, (the day is irrelevant really, I'm just trying to give a sense of freshness to this whole scene), on the treadmill doing my thing. I believe in previous blogs I've established the fact that no one wants to see me when I run. It's a hot, messy, sometimes salty display that no one should witness. Well tonight it got even better and I can add the word RUNNY to that list.
Now before I can tell you the treadmill story you need to know some background about me and my make-up routine. I grew up with 4 sisters so make-up lessons were taught young. I was fascinated at an early age by the world of mascara, shadows and my favorite, eye liner. As I evolved from teen to twenty-something to now thirty-something so has my eye make-up. I've tried them all and varied the applications more often then I dare to remember. For instance, just eyeliner on the top lid, half way across the top lid and full bottom, no top and inner bottom lid, to my latest full top and full bottom. The one thing that has remained the nemesis of my eyeliner fetish is the long lasting effect. No matter what I do I feel like it doesn't stay on all day. Unless of course you use liquid liner. So today I decided to go back to the liquid liner. I checked on it periodically throughout the day and there it was, still on in full black effect. I think, hmmm, maybe I just need to throw those kohl pencils away after all? Well, not so fast....
So I'm on the treadmill and I'm feeling it. I mean I'm sweating up a storm. I crank that baby up for the last 2 miles and feel great when I finish my 10K. As I do my cool down walk I see some long stares from people walking in front of my machine. I assume it's the sweat rings that conveniently and oddly form around my boobs when I run or the fact that I'm just a pile of hot funk. Sadly, it was neither.
I finish my cool down and go to grab the towel and spray which lucky for me are stationed in front of a mirror. When I looked in that mirror I audibly gasped, as if I saw a ghost, but really it was my own reflection. I couldn't believe my eyes, literally. I stood there paralyzed in a state mixed with equal parts embarrassment and bewilderment. My eyeliner, my black liquid eyeliner that I had been so proud of all day had quit on me. It couldn't handle the workout and massive amounts of sweat and it RAN ALL THE WAY DOWN MY EFFIN FACE!!!
I was a walking Rorschach test. Each eye was an inky kaleidoscope of black liner gone wrong. I looked like a rejected date from Brett Michael's, "Rock of Love". Multiple black rivers of sweat and make-up covered my face. It was awful. My only choice was to hide under my towel so that's what I did. I threw the towel over my head like a boxer about to go in the ring. I quickly cleaned the treadmill and walked fast to the locker room.
The fluorescent lights of the women's room just added to the dramatic effect. They were out of tissues so my only option was water and paper towels. By the time I got done removing it from my face and eye area I looked like a raccoon with a bad case of pink eye because of all of the redness from rubbing. Anyone who saw me exiting the gym after this incident would have only one question for me, "What did you do to get your ass kicked so bad?"
As I walked down to Connecticut Ave. I began to think, who the hell meets their soul mate at the gym anyway? It's impossible to look good and I officially throw in the towel. The only person who could've ever been attracted to me in there would be Robert Smith from The Cure.
Now there's someone who could probably recommend some decent effin' eyeliner for me!
Work Hard/Play Harder/Laugh the Hardest, and if you can't laugh at yourself you can always laugh at me!
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