Family life

Why workout gear is so important

For the sake of your fitness pals, please wear spandex at your next workout.

By Jennifer Pinarski

Why workout gear is so important

TRX back rows with a toddler and missing shorts. A good workout can happen under any condition!

I’m a fitness gear snob, to the point that I’m probably overdressed for the shortest of workouts. I own more moisture wicking tech shirts than I do everyday clothes, to the point that I’ve started wearing them to the grocery store (breaking my own rule about not wearing workout clothes in public). I match everything with my running skirt and Merrell Pace gloves, even when I’m planning on running alone in the woods for hours. And yes, it all has spandex in it — that little bit of stretch goes a long way when jumping over dead trees or pulling myself up a hill. And some give in the fabric is helpful when I come out of winter hibernation and need my clothes to — ahem — be more generous during spring run training.
 
That said, I made the mistake of leaving my Lycra at home because I was running late for bootcamp at Move Your Body. Having enjoyed an awesome day at a pal’s house where our kids played like maniacs, I was reluctant to end the fun, but Isaac adored the Zumbatomic class that took place at the same time as my bootcamp. And what kind of role model would I be if I let my plaid Old Navy Bermuda shorts get in the way of jumping jacks and hill sprints? I figured that working out in street clothes with a toddler (Gillian wanted to workout with the bootcamp ladies too) would be great content for a blog post, to show everyone that gear and children shouldn’t get in the way of your favourite fitness activities.
 
For the first 10 minutes of bootcamp, Gillian and I carried logs uphill, did step-ups, push-ups, planks and were ready to take on the tire flip when all of a sudden the arse of my shorts ripped. Not a tiny tear — a huge gaping hole exposing my underpants. Most of the gals I knew fairly well, but a few I am just getting to be friends with and the last thing I wanted them to see was my gitch. For the remaining 35 minutes I tried to hang on to my dignity but it was pretty much impossible — I’m just thankful that my flushed cheeks could be blamed on the heat, and that, like trainer Tanya Willis pointed out, I wasn’t wearing a thong.
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