I was out jogging last weekend, enjoying the unseasonably warm (70 degree) weather. I was in a sleeveless t-shirt and shorts as I huffed and puffed my way through my last few miles. But then a wonderful thing happened. As I jogged in place at a traffic light, waiting for it to change, a truck driver leaned out his window and gave me a long, low wolf whistle.
I recall a time not so long ago when such a "comment" would have me rolling my eyes in disgust as I would look away and refuse to even acknowledge the presence of such a crass human being.
No more. This time, I waved.
It gets better. Not two minutes later a pick-up truck rolled past with one of those big bullhorn systems hooked up to it. "Lookin' good!" yelled the driver. I gave him a thumbs up.
Apparently once you cross that 35 age barrier, you become much more tolerant (and indeed, encouraging) of such behavior.
"Have a good run?" Blair asked when I walked in the door.
"I had a GREAT run," I said. "I got whistled and honked at."
"Oh-kaaay," said Blair.
I may have found my motivation to run a marathon. All I have to do is pay some guys to jog alongside me and comment on how great my ass looks. I'll probably finish the marathon in record time.
Hey, when it comes to exercise, whatever works....