Love Letter to a RunningSkirt

Dearest White RunningSkirt,

I loved you from the first moment I saw you. A mutual friend introduced us. It started off as a casual relationship. I'd stop by your home at http://www.runningskirts.com/ for a quick visit, just to say hi. We were slow to become friends, even though I harbored a secret love for you in my heart.  I was worried we were too different to really form a lasting bond. You were cute and athletic. I was a recreational video gamer who loved eating chocolate frosting right out of its Duncan Hines tub. But as time went by, we got to know each other better. That's when the sparks started to fly & true love found its way into your spandex heart, too.

We spent a lot of time together, you & I. You stuck by me through cold mornings in my basement when I was learning how to be athletic. You were my partner... & while I couldn't wear you outside the house because you were just too see-through for a natural brunette (ladies, you know what I mean), you were my go-to girl for all my treadmill runs. You were my first & truest treadmill love.

Yet today, dearest white running skirt, we must part ways. Yes, we are one of the great epic love stories. Historians will talk of our great love & the bond we shared. And I will continue to love you all of my days...  People grow (or shrink). People change. This is the lesson of life... & of running. And I'm sorry, dearest white running skirt, but you are no longer the right partner for me. We no longer fit together as we once did.

Yes, that's a hair tie holding the skirt up. It fell off while I was on the treadmill. Around my ass. Seriously.

And so, I must go my way & you must go yours. I know not where you will end up. But I know I must go on without you. I hope to see you again. Maybe someday, when I'm cleaning the house, you'll stop by & we can lounge & clean together. I shall have to satisfy myself with the company of your sisters & cousins who've come to live in my closet.

Farewell, old friend.