Smell Me, I'm Sexy!

This is not me.

But maybe one day it will be.

Except I will have more curves.

Yeah, now we're talkin'.

But this post isn't about pictures (although I could quite easily make it about the very very very interesting pictures that come up when you do a Google Images search for "Woman working out" and "Curvy Woman."

But that's beside the point.

The point.

The point is this: I smell damn sexy when I work out.

You read that right. I swore.

Oh, you were more shocked at the rest of the sentence.

Well, it's true. When I'm stuck outside in 97-degree humidity helping a friend move, I do not smell good. But somehow, after an hour of cardio-crazy Zumba, I smell amazingly good. And it's this weird thing because it kicks in at a certain point in the workout, because I'll be sweaty, sweaty, whatever, and then all of a sudden in the middle of a song I'll be like "Ahhh, there it is. Now I'm sexy."

I kid you not. I don't like the smell of my sweat when I'm helping a friend move in eleventy-five degrees. But there's something about the odor that wafts off my toning muscles or something--it just smells... good. (Of course people will prefer the smell of their own pee over the smell of others' so I'm sure it's not saying much to think my sweat smells good--who actually signs up for an experiement where you have to smell pee, anyway? But even a couple of days later my workout clothes don't smell musty and gross. They smell like sexy sweat.)

I mentioned this to some friends, who are now officially a part of my in-crowd, because a) they didn't look at me like I'm crazy and b) I can never let them get mad at me and spread this nonsense I say to other people.

One of them actually did say that it could be my pheremones. And then she patted me on the head and backed slowly out of the building.

But I think she's right. I mean, you see someone working out, and they look all slick and yummy, and if you go up to them sometimes they smell like two-week-old underwear, but sometimes they don't. I think it's all about the pheremones.

Or the endorphins. To quote a movie I should never tell people I actually like this much: “Exercise gives you endorphins--endorphins make people happy and happy people just don't shoot their husbands... they just don't.” (10 points if you know the movie)

So, if you think of it that way, maybe it's my endorphins leaking out. Because Zumba sure does make me happy, even when it's totally kicking my butt. And happiness is sexy. (Maybe this is God's way of making me feel better about the fact that I have to work out to lose weight, as opposed to "pass out" or "eat out" or "peace out" which are three things I'd normally rather be doing)

I like thinking of it that way. Next time I get on the bus after Zumba I'm not going to feel bad about being sweaty and gross. If anyone looks like they notice, I'm just gonna go right up to them and say:

That's not sweat you smell, it's happiness. And you look like you could use some.

So take a big whiff.