I Thought She Recognized My Shoes

I wore running clothes to my colonoscopy. My softest tights, a tank top, a zip-up wicking jacket ... you know, something comfy that could get peeled off in a hurry should the need arise. Zippers, buttons, belt ... completely unnecessary and obviously ill-advised on this day. 

After checking in, I was led to a little ambulatory surgery room. A CNA took my temp, gave me that name bracelet thing and handed over a gown. I changed out of my comfy gear, into the sexy tie-back number and waited for the nurse. 

Her name was Jodi and she was awesome. She snapped the blood oxygen monitor onto my finger and took my blood pressure and pulse. 

"You're a runner, right?" she asks. 

I'm thoroughly confused and give her the head-cocked dog look.

"You run, don't you?" she repeats. 

"Um, yeah, I try, I guess." I'm still not sure what has given me away. Sure, I had running gear on before she walked in. Maybe she saw me. My eyes dart toward the floor where I'd kicked off my shoes, thinking maybe she recognizes the brand or something. 

"Your pulse rate is low," she says. "Runners have low pulse rates."

I can't help but smile. 

They're cute, right? Mine squeak, too, causing
some unwanted attention every once in a while.