It’s time to lose the judgey tights

The first time I saw a running skirt, my husband and I were driving around town while running errands on a hot Saturday afternoon.

“Wow, look at her go!” my husband exclaimed, pointing at a gazelle on the sidewalk.

I turned to get a better look.

Posture – excellent.

Relaxed upper body – check.

Speed – at least Gazelle Mach 1.

I was about to (jealously) give her a two thumbs up when I noticed something strange about her shorts.

They were a skirt.

no running in skirts

My husband, bewildered by my silence, turned to me expectantly.

“So?” he asked.

I slowly pivoted my head toward him and snapped the waistband on my judgey tights.

“Not a runner.”

“Wait. What? She’s running!”

“Runners don’t wear skirts. WE don’t wear skirts.” I replied.

runners wear pants

After that, my husband did what a husband should never do. He pointed out every person he saw working out in a skirt.

“Tennis players wear them.”

“Not runners.”

“Golfers wear them.”

“Not runners.”

“Field hockey players wear them.”


Eventually, he gave up on his game, and assumed my hatred of running skirts was just another quirk he’d have to live with.

scroll of quirks

Over time, my distances grew longer and I got pickier about what I wore while running. I got too hot in tights, but I hated the lack of coverage running shorts provided.

I just couldn’t find the ideal thing to cover my lower half.

pigs in a blanket

One day, my friend and I went shopping on our lunch break.

“Oh, wow! Look at this!” she exclaimed, holding up what looked to me like a mini-skirt.

“Aren’t we a little old for mini-skirts?” I joked.

“No, silly, it’s a workout skirt. I wore one when I taught spin classes. They keep you cool, and they’re really modest. See?” She lifted up the front to reveal a set of shorts tucked underneath.

I blinked, flabbergasted.

it's a skort!

“Know how annoying it is when you have to adjust your shorts mid-spin class?”

I nodded.

“Well, the skirt keeps you covered if they bunch up. I’m surprised you’ve never tried one!”

speechless on the inside

So I bought one.

hot pink one.

don't judge me

“What’d you buy at the store?” my husband asked when I got home that night, hot pink running skort hidden deep in my purse.

“NOTHING!” I barked, and scooted upstairs to hide the skort.


The next morning at runrise, I snuck out while my husband was still sleeping.

It wasn’t long before I felt “slide-age”. Still skeptical of the skort’s magical coverage powers, I pirouetted a few times to see if I was still covered up.

ballerina dog

To my surprise, I was.

I went on to have a great and, most importantly, comfortable run.

the joys of skorts

When I got home, my husband was awake. He met me at the door with a smirk.

“Is that what I think it is?”


The smirk became a smile. “Did you run… in a SKIRT?”


“That’s a SKIRT! Did you lose a bet or something?” The smirk was now a toothy grin.

Flecksplosion countdown

I sighed and whispered, “I was wrong.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

He leaned in a little closer.

This time, I replied a little louder.

“I like running in a skirt.”

“I still can’t hear you… you’ll have to raise your voice,” he said grinning ear to ear.

“IT’S A SKORT AND I LOVE IT!” I exclaimed.

I pulled up my humble skort and ran inside, my figurative tail between my legs.


Sometimes, we need to try new things.

Sometimes, we need to look beyond the surface before making assumptions.

Sometimes, we just need to lose the judgey tights and put on our humble skorts.

humble skort

So judge me all you want, runiverse. You don’t know what you’re missing.

Psst! You can receive automatic updates whenever there’s a new post on See Fleck Run! To follow me, in the bottom right corner of my page, click Follow.

Saying thank you!

This week’s post takes a slight detour from my normal story-telling and cartooning.

My lovely blogging buddy over at A Fast Paced Life kindly interviewed me about my blog this week. Head over to her site for a read (then stick around to read more of her great posts):

In the spirit of paying it forward, I thought I would point you to some other great running/fitness blogs out there that I’ve found in the blogosphere. In no particular order:

Movin’ It With Michelle

Motherhood and Marathons

Out Running

Jogging Jeans

The Dancing Runner

The Old Fellow Goes Running


So Very Slightly Mad

Running Heartless

Tell Me About Running

Whether you’re just starting out, or you’re a seasoned pro, you’ll be sure to find all kinds of motivation from these blogs. Enjoy!

I’ll return to my regularly scheduled story-telling and cartoons next week. 🙂

Psst! You can receive automatic updates whenever there’s a new post on See Fleck Run! To follow me, in the bottom right corner of my page, click Follow.

The case of the missing marathon

Remember a while ago when I mentioned it was marathon season?

Well, it seems my marathon went missing.

Where'd you go marathon

I looked all over London for it… from Tower Bridge to the Battersea Power Station, and I couldn’t find it anywhere.

tower bridge to battersea

I looked around the British Museum and the Tate Modern but, nope, no marathon there.

I walked through Canary Wharf, through Soho, up to The Mall, around Buckingham Palace and, still, no marathon.

buckingham palace

Somewhere around Richmond, I saw some runners. “Hey, maybe they know where the marathon’s gone”, I thought.

I followed them into Richmond Park, but they soon disappeared over the horizon. I stopped to look at a herd of deer.

“Do you know where the marathon went?” I asked.

They just blinked back at me and turned away.

richmond park deer are jerks

I left Richmond Park and entered Wimbledon Common, thinking maybe I’d find my marathon there, but it was still nowhere to be found.

Fully exhausted, I did what any thinking person would do. I went to the pub to have a pint.

pints and pubs

In case you haven’t already noticed, I missed a run in London thanks to my recent foot injury.

At my last physio appointment before flying out, I asked my physiotherapist to level with me.

“So,” I asked, “what do you think? Can I run London?”

“Well, you could, but you won’t walk for at least a week after.”

physio enabler

Fully enabled, I tried smuggling my running shoes in my suitcase.

Unfortunately, I got caught by the no-fun-police (aka my husband).

“What are those?” he asked.

“Umm, just shoes,” I replied, quickly zipping up my suitcase.

“Which shoes?”

“Sensible walking shoes for people with busted feet.”

“They’re running shoes, aren’t they?”

shoe fight

He unzipped my suitcase, and removed my running shoes. “No running, Fleck. You don’t want to injure yourself any more. Don’t you want to run your other races this year?”

“Bu… but… but, London…”

He handed me my shoes, and put a hand on my shoulder. “If you run, and you get hurt, you’re going to ruin your vacation. What will you do if you can’t walk? Do you want to spend your holiday sitting in our friend’s flat nursing a busted foot?”

I snuffled and put the shoes back in the closet. “No.”


I spent most of our flight telling myself it was okay to miss the run. I reminded myself that I had other races lined up this summer, that I could run London another year, that I’d still have fun on our vacation even if I didn’t run.

None of it was helping my mood.

everything sucks

On what would have been run day, we woke up to a rare sunny London morning. Our friend’s flat was flooded in light.

boys suck

“So, what do you guys want to do today, then?” Our friend asked.

“Run,” I growled.

My husband shook his head and snickered. “It’s a nice day. Let’s walk about the city and see where we end up.”

And so we did.

walking can be fun

We walked the length and breadth of Central London, through 2 parks, past castles, in and out of museums and shops and, of course, a few pubs along the way. We walked for so long that before we knew it, the day was done and we were sitting in a pub in Wimbledon.

“What a marathon that was,” our friend said.

wimbledon pub

When we got home, my friend’s words still rang in my mind, so I went to the computer, and retraced our steps around the city. To my shock, we’d actually walked a marathon.

walkathon proof

Case of the missing marathon closed, I laced up my shoes and went for a quick 5K around the neighborhood.

Afterwards, I poured myself a pint of ale, put my feet up, and celebrated my many marathons to come.

I love your face

Happy National Running Day, everyone.

Psst! You can receive automatic updates whenever there’s a new post on See Fleck Run! To follow me, in the bottom right corner of my page, click Follow.