Tag Archives: Adidas

Suits You Sir

We had a fight yesterday, well actually I had a fight, launched a half ironed shirt at Geordie and stormed into our daughters room to play with Lego to calm down. By now most of you will have worked out that Geordie is a constant cause of distress to me, and while I love the scruffy sod he gets on my nerves so badly sometimes I could cry. Here’s how it went down.

‘Should we go for a walk around the village, get a bit of fresh air?’

‘Yeah okay then I’ll stick the iron on to sort some clothes

‘Why what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’

You can probably guess which side of the conversation belong to whom? During this exchange Geordie was sporting a pair of Adidas navy blue track suit bottoms, with marks on, a long sleeve blue training top with a white marathon finishers t-shirt over the top, also with visible marks on it. Plus he wore the same clothes the day before (hence the marks). While we were conversing I started ironing a plain white t-shirt for him and silently bullied him into finding a clean pair of jeans. I pulled out a blue shirt and began to iron the collar when I stupidly asked ‘What’s up with you?’ to which I got a very terse reply resulting in me chucking the shirt at him and cracking on with my Lego building in the next room.

It’s so frustrating, why go out dressed like a retired P.E teacher when you have three, yes 3 wardrobes full of clothes that are perfectly clean, well-fitting and on trend? Arghhh I’m actually getting annoyed again writing this! Twenty minutes later he saunters out of the bedroom wearing jeans and the t-shirt, clearly ironing the rest of the blue shirt was a step too far and would seem like I had won that particular battle. Okay so he’s spent the last 10 years in the military being told what to wear and how to wear it, so what difference does it make if I give the orders? Oh dear that doesn’t sound like a recipe for a long and happy marriage does it? Just call me the domestic chief of staff.

If Geordie had no decent clothes (which lets face it would never happen) it wouldn’t bother me so much, but I’ve bought him shed loads over the years and its a constant battle to get him to take some pride in his appearance and to give a crap about how I feel walking down the street with the northern version of Worzel Gummage!

We’re off to a farmers market this morning, I’m genuinely worried someone might try to buy him to frighten off the crows!

 

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Work It Baby

In light of my fitness epiphany yesterday I had a quick look through my wardrobe to find the remains of my sportswear. Co-ordination is still a key issue for me, despite the fact that I am going to sweat profusely and resemble a tomato by the end of the session. Ordinarily I stick to my faithful Adidas three-quarter length leggings, Nike sports bra and one of Geordie’s hundreds of long sleeve running tops. There is a bit of a monochrome theme going on, excluding my black and purple Nike Air Alvod 9, and I feel comfortable having tight-fitting pants but a loose top to run in. Geordie however runs like a tramp, not physically but in the complete lack of any style whatsoever. The last time we ran Sefton Park in Liverpool he started a full-scale row as I refused to go out of the house with him, he was wearing light blue TWO stripe shorts that don’t even belong to him, odd socks that I’m assured were white at some point in the past, a half-marathon finisher’s t-shirt (very commendable) and a pink Nike drinks bottle. In hindsight I suppose I could have used this horrific crime to fashion/sportswear as inspiration to run like hell and distance myself from him, but I couldn’t get as far as the front door in case someone saw me with him. Eventually he relented and changed the shorts!

Call on Me (Eric Prydz song)

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have willingly been to various aerobics, zumba and boxercise classes and spent more time comparing myself to others, feeling like a frumpy idiot than concentrating on the end goal. I have had to endure women my age in neon green leggings and leopard print leotards with matching hair band, pretty sure it wasn’t the video shoot for Eric Prydz Call On Me and it definitely was the local leisure centre class run by an elderly but super-fit lady. One of the hardest parts of getting back into public exercise for me is feeling confident enough in my work out clothes to go out in the first place. I’ve been guilty in the past of slagging off those gorgeous skinny mini’s who make running 10k look like a skip around Tesco and those who had achieved the mecca of female fitness, definition not muscles, think Michelle Obama‘s arms! Where as now I can fully appreciate that it’s not done over night, there really isn’t any quick fix and in the words of the late, great Roy Castle, dedication is what you need. If I see anyone out running/jogging now my first thought is always ‘Good on you’ because they’re already doing a damn sight more than me, regardless of what they are wearing.

I have dusted off my Adidas THREE stripe and have blanketed Twitter, Ebay and GumTree looking for a child bike seat in preparation for the 5X50 Challenge, if I’m getting fit my kids are coming along for the ride.

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