ELLEN, journalist and anti-athlete: When I was in high school about 100 years ago, we were given gym suits to wear to gym class. They were one-piece outfits with snaps in an institutional blue color. We looked like prisoners in our short-legged and short-sleeved uniforms. I still remember the suits’ scent when you pulled them from the bottom of the locker week after week. No wonder I hated gym class.

I love my gym clothes now. Perhaps that’s why I find it easier to get more out of my workout than we did in those forced calisthenics of high school. While you might not call my outfit stylish, it does make me feel good, and it makes me feel like an athlete. Putting it on is part of my ritual and part of my motivation. I have always wanted to be a jock. So, my fashion sense here is to look as close to a jock as I can. You will likely laugh when I tell you what I wear.

I have L.L. Bean leggings and biker shorts that I buy from the catalog. And then, I usually wear an oversized T-shirt that is orange with tie-dyed accents. I have written in earlier columns about my very professional-looking new running shoes that I also bought at a discount store, John’s Sneaks in Ardmore.

I also have a collection of T-shirts from runs that I participated in before my lower back succumbed to arthritis. I love putting those old shirts on and remembering the colors and drama of the running community in Minneapolis, where I did my last 5K.

So picture me in this rather unfashionable get-up and understand that this makes me feel very cool. I can pretend for a few hours that I really am a jock. How different is this from donning an evening gown for a night out on the town to pretend you are rich and famous?

So fashion --- even fitness fashion --- is in the eye of the beholder. And I’d argue that putting some energy into how you feel about the way you look can defeat even the most hardcore reptilian memory of high school gym class. It works for me. Posted March 12, 2003 12:11 PM