English: Running woman Nederlands: Hardlopende vrouw (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Dear readers, I have a problem. You see, I have this habit of double glancing everytime I see a beautiful woman. It doesn’t help that I think women are God’s most beautiful creation, bar none. If a woman walks past me in yoga pants, lululemon or tight jeans, I can’t help but look back to see if she looks as good leaving as she did coming. Nothing sexual or lustful, just pure admiration for the fairer sex and the presentation. I am happily married and think my wife is the cat’s meow so I guess it’s more like admiring your neighbor’s expensive red jaguar. Not wanting the expense but thinking it’s still a beauty to admire. So now you get where I’m coming from? Don’t want you to start judging me, calling me a playa and all that, because I swear, that’s not how it is at all. Don’t judge be because of that last post. Here.
But anyways, I am not writing this blog to confess my bad habit to you, no sir/ma’am. The reason I’m blogging is actually to tell you what happened on Saturday morning. My 8-year-old has soccer practice on Saturday mornings and instead of taking turns driving him, I told the wifey that I would do the honors. I am more of the morning person and enjoy the alone-time, drinking my coffee while I wait for him. Going to MacDonald’s for breakfast after is a good deal maker too. So anyways, while standing on the side of the field, I caught myself double looking at a female coach who was coaching some 5-6-year olds. Yes, she was wearing lululemons. Or were they yoga pants? I was mad at myself and made a mental vow that starting immediately, I would not give any woman the double-look again. I vowed to be strong. I had to stop before it got out of hand, right? So yep, no more checking out the grass on the other side. Done!
While enjoying my new-found emancipation from this binding addiction, movement on my periphery caught my attention. I turned my head and saw it was just a blonde young woman, dressed in lululemon pants, or were they yoga? and matching top, out for a run. Her pony-tailed hair swooped from side to side like a horse’s. (Oh, that’s why they call them pony tail! Aha moment!).
Kinda like her
Vow forgotten, tossed to the wind like torn up paper, I double glanced. Yup, I did. It was the hair, I swear! She probably used it to put weak men with vows in trances. Mesmerize us. Had to be. as here I was, double, triple, quadruple glancing, waiting for her to go by to see if she had the correct running form. She did! He hips, shoulders and entire body was a mass of rhythm. I was proud of her. Like a running coach admiring his star athlete.
Ok, nothing is as beautiful as a woman and nothing is as graceful as a human running. See where I’m going with this? So yup, I broke my vow before it was even cooled from exiting the warmth confines of my thought. I disgraced the school of thought.
Honey, let’s go running. Better yet, you go running around the block while I watch. Yes, around the bed is fine too…
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