I went shopping for jeans today.  My jeans all have holes where the thighs rub together or where the back pocket attaches to the pants.  Originally I was planning on just going to the mall by my house, but DH suggested we have an adventure and go to the Tracy Outlets.  Man, that place was desolate.  About half the storefronts were empty, and those that were occupied didn’t seem to have outlet prices on much.  I sucked it up and went into the Levi’s store.

I was ambushed from the time I stepped in the doors.  Christina (she told me her name three times) followed me as I tried to shop for jeans.  She tried to tell me about their new sizing system, she wanted to know who I was shopping for, and couldn’t wait to tell me about the sales.  I tried to be gentle and say “I’ll know what I want when I see it” but she just didn’t get the hint.  Maybe I need to be more direct and say “Leave me alone. I like to shop in peace.”  To be fair, I remember having my first retail job and wanting to help.  And maybe she worked on commission, so she wanted to make sure she got the sale.  But OMG, I was beyond annoyed and I hadn’t even really looked at the options on the shelves!

I found two pair.  Neither fit right.  One was too small, and one was too long.  I slipped out of the fitting room unnoticed (hurray!) and tried to find a different length in the one I liked.  No luck.  I didn’t even want to try to shop for anything else.  I tried to slip out of the store but couldn’t escape without a goodbye.  The other stores were all too expensive, and had weird decorations on them.

We finally stopped in at West Valley Mall.  I tried on two pair of jeans at JCPenney.  Again with no luck.  You see, my hips and thighs are huge, and my waist is small.  Plus I’m short.  It makes things a little difficult.  Their petite section was literally three racks smushed in between the misses and plus sizes… and there weren’t any jeans to be found there.

I wanted to cry.  At that point I truly hated my body.  I hated that my body shape didn’t work for the clothes I was trying on.  I hated that the clothing manufacturers make things for stick figures and for people with big stomachs, but nothing for people with big hips and thighs but small waists.  Even the things that are supposedly made to fit my body type don’t work.  But I realized that if I freaked out and gave up, I’d never find anything that fit.

I tried to find a petites section at the Macy’s too.  This one was slightly larger, but again there weren’t any jeans to be found.  Luckily they had selection in “short” lengths, which are still just a bit too long but I can make them work.  This time I tried on four pair.  Two fit right and one pair was only available in regular length. DH bought the two and I took a picture of the ones that were too long so I could hunt for them online.

Success!  DH suggested we shop for a couple of tops to go with the jeans, but I didn’t want to tempt the shopping gods into making me get teary eyed again, so we went home.

So that’s what I did today.

Running Away

My jog yesterday was my fastest yet: 2.03 miles in 22 minutes.  I can’t help but think that the reason I was so fast is because it was my way of running away from what’s going on right now.

There are things about which we all worry, but that we try to ignore.  It’s the way we humans cope with things that are out of our control.  We don’t have a say, necessarily, in whether we lose our jobs, have a bomb drop on our heads, or have a natural disaster hit our neighborhood.  These things happen, and rather than worry too much about them we prepare for “just in case.”  We stockpile emergency supplies in case of a disaster.  We save as much money as possible in case of a job loss.  We purchase insurance in case of something else.

But how do you deal with the reality when those worries come to fruition?  I know some people who keep it bottled up.  I know others who spend their time grieving or freaking out.  Others talk about it incessantly.  Still others flee.

I would love to be able to flee the reality I see sometimes.  Unfortunately, there’s a complete inability to leave reality behind – to leave responsibility behind.  I’m good at pretending I can run away, but I really can’t.

Such is life.  It’s the reason I haven’t moved far, far away as I’ve often longed to do.  It’s the reason I haven’t aggressively searched for a job outside of the Bay Area.  It’s the reason I get up every day, go to work, exercise, pay my bills and take care of my family.  I remind myself that running away is for cowards.  Adults – the true adults – keep going even when it’s hard.

So instead of running away, like I really wanted to do, I ran – literally.  I ran up into the hills surrounding my neighborhood, past the parks, around the corners and made my way back home.  I ran the fastest 2 miles I’ve ever run.  And although I didn’t actually run away, running was enough yesterday.

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