to claim or not claim.

On Sunday morning I had to go to work-church to well, work for a while.  Shoot some pictures, be an extra set of hands, etc.  All good things.  One task was to help with a reception and while greeting people I was asked something that I never really wanted to be asked.

"Do you work out at ?"

Oh gosh.  Y'all.  When I look around at the gym after I get done exercising, or even when I just walk in really, it's clear to see I'm not one of the "cute ones."  My (5 year old+) gym clothes rarely match and are a little threadbare at points.  Since it's at 6 or 7 a.m. when I'm there I certainly haven't washed my face, there is definitely no make-up on, and I usually have the funky top-knot going on to keep my hair of my neck so I won't have to wash it.  And the post-cardio work out diana--let's just say she's red and pouring sweat.

So when I'm asked "do you work out at " my first thought was, "ugh."  Fortunately, I don't think my moment of dread & panic showed on my face, and what came out of my mouth was a bright and perky, "Yes sir!."

Oy.