Say Cheese!

I don't like people to look at me while I exercise.

I understand that this seems strange when I say I work out with a trainer or run with a running group. But mostly I don't want people who are not working out to watch or see me work out. I am not an attractive athlete. Some women glisten when they run, their perfectly coiffed ponytails bouncing as they exercise. Think Jane Fonda on crack.

I am not one of these people. Should you encounter me running around the streets of Chicago (and you can easily find me by following the screams of women and children as they catch sight of me), I will resemble a beet on fire. My face will be bright red, sweat will be pouring down my face, my clothes will be disheveled and my hair will be sticking straight up.

I don't like exercising in front of people not just for vanity reasons, but also because when you're all-out running, you feel out of control, almost vulnerable. Whether someone sees you at your strongest, powering through the finish line or taking a hill with force or at your weakest, dragging an injured knee behind you as you limp towards your endpoint, spectators see you at your purest, without the trappings of everyday life to shroud you. It's a scary feeling.

Last week I was taking my usual weekday run along the Chicago lakefront. My standard route takes me through a lakefront park that is one of my favorite views of the entire city. Standing at the edge of the park - essentially a peninsula in Lake Michigan - you get two of the best views of the city and Lakeshore Drive. It is, in a word, breathtaking.

Running in my own world I pounded down the sidewalk, paused to glance at the stunning skyline, and realized something was in my shoe. Instead of just stopping and looking in my shoe, I continued to jog, shaking my foot to the side in a motion that resembled an injured vaudeville act.

Sensing something was in front of me, I suddenly stopped, foot in mid air, deer in headlights look on my face and aforementioned general air of sweaty grossness, only to see I had just wandered into my worst nightmare.

I had stumbled into the background of an engagement photo. The adorable couple, dressed to the nines, was approximately five feet in front of me. The photographer had lowered his camera and was staring at me. The couple, blissfully unaware, were still smiling, thinking the city skyline was in the background instead of a big sweaty stumbling mess.

I mumbled an apology and awkwardly stumbled to the side thinking not only had I violated my number one rule about allowing people to watch me run, but also had now been captured on camera doing so.

So congrats to that couple - may you have a long and happy life together. Can I get a copy of the photo?