Setting a personal best on a run for distance and pace, followed by a swim, meditation and a walk in a very skimpy bikini


The longest run since I was in high school. Following Mistress’s suggestion of meditating after a workout–it works.

I decided already last night before going to bed that today I wanted to go for a nice long run.  I’ve been feeling the need lately, and that I have not been exercising enough.  There is also something very calming about exercising the body to exhaustion.  The process itself, too, is a time for reflection.

After a litre of my morning spiced brew [recipe here], I got dressed to go.  6:30 am is my preferred start time.  Today, I wore my skimpiest outfit…the harder I am going to train, the sexier I want to feel, because this is the motivational energy that pulls me forward.  After a good long stretch, I headed out.  I have two basic routes—turn left for a 10k and a prettier run or turn right for a 20k but for a less pretty run.  I chose the latter.

Much to my surprise, about 1k into my run, I came across the halfway marker for the annual Halloween marathon.  Shucks, I wish I had known, as I would have joined in, but this proved to be better.  I was running against the traffic, so instead of having a big crowd of people to contend with on my side of the road, I got to watch them, and to have my side of the road largely empty.  And watch them I did.

I’ve always loved Halloween, and many people were running in costume.  One lady was dressed as the male sex organs.  Poor thing!  Many women were wearing superhero outfits.  It seems that Wonder Woman is popular this year.  So too were the scantily-clad lifeguards of Baywatch.  Though running with those orange rescue floaties must have been a struggle.

As skimpy as my outfit was, I was for once not the most provocatively dressed.  A clutch of men wore skimpy clothes too.  There were plenty of tutus on display, and I guess this is a popular Halloween half marathon outfit.  Given my recent postings on ballet and deeply felt love for tutus, I can see what I will be running in next time.  I particularly appreciated the many men who were running in sports bras, and am beginning to wonder if I started something with my sartorial exercise habits.  [My love and belief in running in a sports bra is written about here].

I crossed the finish line at the halfway point of my own run, and found the cheering crowds a great motivator, as I was already beginning to flag.  I was most certainly the only person who didn’t stop after the finish line and just kept running through the crowd and back onto the path.  It started to get tough at 16k, and while I normally don’t like to look at my watch to see how far I have gone, today I kept looking, and was finding the small distances covered much less than what was going on in my head, but I knew I could do it, knew I was going to set a personal distance and pace record.  The last 3k were tough, the last 1.5k were tough, the last 500m were really tough, but then I had done it.

I beelined for the ocean, started to stretch and then stripped down to my bikini.  I always run with a tight, skimpy swimsuit bottom on under my running shorts, because there is no better way to end a run than with a quick jump in the ocean to cool off.  Today I took a lot more time, and did an extended period of stretching in the waves.

I have written lately about finding the courage to be “out” with my choice of clothing and am finding that very liberating.  Curiously, I have been wearing bikini bottoms on the beach for the past few years and finding myself comfortable with increasingly skimpy styles.  And while I am sure any woman looking at me on the beach would likely know that I am not wearing speedo, but something she might wear, I have chosen the styles for their ambiguity.  My favourite style, however, is a string bikini, with the cute little ties on the side.  Well, today, that was me.  And it felt great.  And after my swim, I meditated, said my mantras, knelt to Mistress, to the sun, and to myself, stretched some more, and then stretched my body out on the sand and just grounded for 30 minutes.  As I did, I thought about my breathing and about my spirit guide, and how happy it makes me to feel his presence, how strong he is, and how protective.

The beach was largely deserted but for people going on beach walks.  I was pleased that a woman came and sat near me, please because it said, “I’m not judging you.”  And as I lay there, I was suffused with a feeling of deep relaxation.  I thought about my breathing and what I learned doing Gyrotonic [written about here].  And I could feel the delicate pinpricks of the morning sunshine splashing onto my body, and the energy of the earth suffusing me from below, and it was a joy to just lie there, in nature, as my nature.

After, I walked along the beach to get home, another 3k or so.  I did not cover up.  I passed tons of people enjoying themselves, families, small groups, people on their own.  Nobody paid any attention to me.  It was great.  And it made me think of how much energy we spend on holding ourselves back because of fear, and what a sad thing that is, what a loss of energy.  

I also thought about sexism as it relates to women and the clothes they wear.  How often do we hear “she asked for it” because of the sexy outfit that a woman was wearing…whether that might be unwanted attention or anything else.  And I was thinking, there are few things that are hotter than an attractive woman in a bikini—there’s a whole industry around this—the Pirelli Calender, the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.  This line of thinking is tragic.  Would anyone ever tell me that I was asking for something by wearing a bikini today?  I don’t think so.  But I wore it because of how it made me feel.  And what is that?  It made me feel sexy in a way that matters to me, and I found it deliciously empowering.  I wish for everyone that when we dress, especially men, that we dress with conscious intent.  That we dress to feel good about ourselves, not to hide and blend in, but as a way to say out loud how we feel.

A small example.  I had the great pleasure of being with Mistress recently.  Going to her I knew that I was going to go to a place of ultimate submission.  I never know beforehand, but this time I did, because she asked me if I had a particular item with me, and that particular item was very symbolic, and was not anything we had ever done together before.  It doesn’t matter what it is, but what does matter is what it represents—a level of emotional vulnerability and openness that speaks to my entire submissive nature.  What did I choose to wear in going to see her?  Power clothing.  I consciously wore an outfit that spoke to male power—confident, elegant, expensive, male power dressing.  It looked fab.  It was important to me for her to see me this way, just as I have fantasised about going to her in a business suit, because the more powerful I am and become, the more there is to strip away, and the more that she strips away, the more submissive I feel.

You may have your own reasons and desires that are embodied in the clothes you wear.  I encourage everyone to dress because of how it makes you feel, and makes you feel good about yourself…and to men, I say, be conscious, appreciate your own clothes and what they say about you.  Take pride in your power of self-expression.

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