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Winter running seems to be a particular type of masochism where the runner alternates between being too cold due to the season and too hot due to running. Skilled runners seem to manage to be slightly uncomfortable for the whole process until they stop running and then turn into fitsicles when hit by a stiff wind.

I have avoided winter running so far and don’t venture out when the temperature’s below 45 degrees. I have a nice treadmill in front of a nice television, and my version of managing layers is being in a climate-controlled room. But, beating myself up has again become a hobby so I looked into winter runnning gear like leggings. I did my homework, went to Amazon, purchased a highly reviewed pair, selected my size and received a set of youth XL leggings. The item clearly listed the size of XL with Youth XL as another option, so I’m pinning this squarely on the sender. Regardless, I don’t know if it’s a testament to my weight loss or the elasticity of polyester, but I fit in them regardless.
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If they didn’t crotch about three inches below where they should, I could actually run in them, or so I thought. After the minute it took for me to take this picture my feet had gone numb.

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I went to Men’s Warehouse during lunch with the intent of getting new pants. Over the course of lunch, I learned:

  • All flat front pants are now skinny pants
  • Cuffs are not available on cotton pants
  • All slacks there either run $60 or $150 with little in between
  • All store associates there have their wastes about three inches below their nipples
  • “I’m in a hurry” means “I’m going to disappear for long lengths of time somehow in a store the size of a shoe box”

Note to Self: Find new pants place

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This weekend was looking to be a hot one and I was going to be trudging around an asphalt jungle in long pants so I stopped by Men’s Warehouse to see what options they had for pants cooler than the standard cotton I use, maybe a tissue chino or some other modern fabric.

Me: I’m looking for dress pants that are as thermally cool as possible.
Associate: Do you care about color?
Me: No, dark or light, doesn’t matter.
Associate:  Do you care what cut the legs are?
Me: No, as long as it covers them.
Associate: Then I know the perfect thing.  *Grabs pants* These are a traditional fabric being made of flax, with a stylish short leg cut, and…
Me: You’re proposing I wear linen manpris?
Associate: These also have a stylish draw string for an adjustable waste so that…
Me: Pardon, you’re proposing I wear draw string linen manpris?  I don’t consider those dress.
Associate: Well, it does absorb much more moisture before feeling damp, billows lightly, and gets softer as you wash them.
Me: None of those address the fundamental problem I have that you’re proposing I wear, with a straight face, drawstring linen manpris as a “dress pant”.
Associate: How about a light wool?
Me: Wonderful.

I miss you, Lee.

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I went to Men’s Warehouse to get a shirt and go to talk to Lee:

Me: I’m looking for a few nice size 20 long-sleeved shirts.
Tailor: Why are you going that large?
Me: I’ve found that gives me the space I need in the paunch *points to gut*.
Tailor: You should be fine in a 18 or 19 *pulls out tape, measures neck* Yep, you’re a 18 and a half.  Try these.
Me: I don’t know.
Tailor: Who’s the tailor?
Me: *puts on shirt* Huh, it does fit.  But my other size 18.5s don’t.
Tailor: That’s because you’re buying crappy shirts.  What was rag, George Foreman Casual… Van Hausen?
Me: I don’t know [it was a van Hausen].
Tailor: Those are trash shirts, they make money by shorting you on fabric.  Stick with me and you’ll be never not fabulous.
Me: Thank you, Lee.

If only one day he’d look at me and say “Stick with me, kid, and I’ll make you a star”.

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In 2009 or so, I started a list of all the reasons I didn’t want to be fat anymore.  An accounting of minor nuisances that I wrote that eventually numbered slightly over a hundred and this wasn’t for want of more, but for want of more index cards (this is the time before the coming of the small black book when I still recorded things on my hipster PDA).  Now, I’ve made a habit of every two months reviewing and striking off items from the list.  Some came off early like “having to undo my seat belt to open my gas hatch” and others will take a good while still like”doing a half marathon”.

I did my bi-monthly review and shaved off a few, nothing major, but my way of marking progress besides the enigmatic readings of my bathroom scale that transmit a number but with no visceral aspect to it.  There were the ones I removed:

  • Feel comfortable wearing a white t-shirt
  • Fit into a pair of size 46 pants
  • Fit into a size 20 shirt
  • Not seeing arm fat wobble while brushing my teeth

Small, but progress.  There was also one I was thinking of striking through that was “not having a waiter go ‘so what will we be having for dessert’ at restaurants” but that may be removed on the simple fact that some servers do this to everyone, although the “will we be having dessert” is probably more common.  Maybe I should keep tally.

 

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My new shirts arrived today and they had a pulpy maiden voyage in the washing machine as I didn’t know they had cardboard braces under the the neck collar.  I was next saddened to see that the shirts were not wrinkle resistant and did a magic trick where they transformed in what looked like rhino-skinned rugs upon contact with water.  Finally, I found that I purchased the wrong size and all the sleeves were an inch shorter than I wanted.  Should anyone need me to do a disheveled white collar Bruce Banner impression I could do it once for each day of the week.

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The Judge shirt I received was somewhat small, and I contacted Wizards to get a replacement.  I requested something with a 22 neck which based on the sizing given would go up to about a 4XL.  The response from Wizards:

Sir, we recognize the difficulty my may be having with your shirt, but due to limitations of supplier we not may be able to meet your request.  The supplier is located in Europe and shirts that large are simply not easy to come by in the EU due to their low consumption in comparison to the US.

Thank you

I either need to find a US supplier or fatten up the EU.

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Nick D brought me the new judge shirt back from PT: San Diego and I was excited to try it on.  The previous judge shirt was creatively termed “the zebra stripes” and had the dubious distinction of turning into a midriff-bearing shirt if the wearer was over 6’1″ or had a dunlopus majoris protruding more than three inches.  I was going to start the next paragraph with the phrase “I put on the new shirt” but putting on implies several things such as the gowning process being free of grunts, cries and panhoots and of being easily reversible.  I more accurately applied the new judge shirt and later peeled it off.   The arms were splendidly sized but my first attempt to pick up garbage would have turned the button line into a sartorial fragmentation grenade (Magic players: I was tempted to make  a Triskelion joke).   I nearly lost my shirt when another player said “Bruce Banner, I just hit your car.”  This was the largest shirt available.

My mass is exceptional and I fully recognize that I should incur extra cost due to it .  I pay more for food, clothing, transportation, health insurance, and the niceties that streamline corpulent living but among all possible communities that would require clothing of exceptional size the Venn Diagram of sedentary, pedantic, and gourmand  which coalesces with “WoTC judge” should be the acme of need.  I’ve heard a large judge took to his shirt with scissors and made patches of the embroidery to put on a larger shirt (which mentally led me to another card allusion).  I enjoy judging and don’t wish to abandon it, but should it become necessary I may need to start scouring for an embroiderer, shirt laster, or personal training.  God forbid the latter.

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I normally have nine pairs of underwear which I wash on a short cycle along with my Scout uniform, certain shirts, and my pillow case.  These items combined create perfectly sized load.  I keep my underwear in the same drawer as my socks and these clothing staples live in harmony.  Today, though, they didn’t live in harmony.  My under took up 2/3rds of the drawer so I started counting them.  Somehow I’d gone from 9 pairs to 14 pairs of underwear.  I wonder if UnderArmour has some sort of mating season that I’ve otherwise ignored.  If so, congratulations to the pair that had twins.

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I normally have nine pairs of underwear which I wash on a short cycle along with my Scout uniform, certain shirts, and my pillow case.  These items combined create perfectly sized load.  I keep my underwear in the same drawer as my socks and these clothing staples live in harmony.  Today, though, they didn’t live in harmony.  My under took up 2/3rds of the drawer so I started counting them.  Somehow I’d gone from 9 pairs to 14 pairs of underwear.  I wonder if UnderArmour has some sort of mating season that I’ve otherwise ignored.  If so, congratulations to the pair that had twins.