on the difficulties to finding appropriate running attire

Some people say that the hardest thing about exercise is finding the motivation to get out the door - once you're out there it's easy enough to put one foot in front of the other and get the training done.
I agree with this. It is hard work getting out that door. But even harder is deciding what to wear while exercising.
Tonight I finally did the training I've been putting off all weekend. It took three costume changes before I got out there though.
A running outfit firstly has to be comfortable. It also has to hide all your worst features and wobbly bits, both to save your dignity, and to cause the least amount of distress and emotional scarring to any unfortunate spectators. To make things harder, it also has to keep you warm in the Wellington winter.
And most importantly it cannot involve any camel toe whatsoever. Even inadvertent camel toe is never acceptable. I'm one of these people who will sit in my car at traffic lights openly mocking any woman power walking down the road with camel toe on display for all the world to see. So to avoid hypocrisy, I put a lot of thought into my running attire.
Finally I settled on a merino t-shirt for warmth, leggings to hide my knees, and and old grey sweater for more warmth (this is Wellington). The sweater isn't quite long enough though, so to guarantee the non-appearance of camel toe so have to pull the tights down quite low, which has the unfortunate result of letting the belly fat hang out a bit; but you can't win every battle.
Looking okay (I would never go so far to say good) while running is fairly important for me. Wellington isn't a large city, and Mt Victoria is even smaller. It seems I can never leave the house without bumping into someone I know. Except when I'm made up, with hair straightened and dressed nicely - I never bump into anyone on those days. Murphy's law perhaps?
Today, red-faced and a little sweaty, I bumped into an old classmate. I haven't seen her in over 4 years and didn't even know she lived down here. So of course I had to see her while out (attempting) jogging.
I was supposed to walk for 20 minutes and run for 5. I don't own a watch. I ran for the length of two Mgmt songs. This equates to about 8 minutes. It also got me as far as the pizza parlour. To coax myself outdoors I had bribed myself with a seafood pizza and tucked a 10 dollar bill into my bra.
(Speaking of which, a future post must be dedicated to the difficulties in jogging in an ill-fitting bra - and the difficulties of keeping the money in there without it falling out - I'm forever envious of my friends that seem to be able to tuck all manner of objects down their cleavage without any trouble!).
Some reward. It appears it's impossible to get a pizza for under 10 bucks or a seafood pizza at all from my local pizza shop. Shows how often I patronize the place. Garlic bread seemed a good replacement. And then I walked the 8 minutes home.
I figured I'd make up the rest of the walk, walking to and from the cinema tonight.
The dark clouds rolling in looked a little too ominous and the garlic bread really couldn't wait.