These are actually pretty comfortable. They're Champion Duo Dry. I think they're like, 8 years old

Something interesting happened today. I put on pants.

If you hang out with me during the right time of year, or see me jogging early in the morning or late at night (probably the latter), you’ll notice that I dress differently from most people. Even when I put on a windbreaker, a fleece, or maybe even a true winter coat, I’ll still be walking around in shorts.

I’ve always taken a cold better than I do heat, and definitely way better than humidity. My mom would joke that I was part polar bear. At home, whenever someone asked “is it cold in here?” or “is there a draft?” I would reply “No,” And the response would be “sure, I’ll catch you wouldn’t be!”

Are used to think that I was tough or resilient, and I could power through kind of discomfort. Recent years I’ve just been suspecting that it’s my gigantic Gastrocnemius muscles keeping me warm.

My huge muscles down there don’t really come from careful maintenance of my body. Since I was a little kid I’ve always been a toe-walker. I’ve put so much weight on an equal portions of my legs, my hamstring became painfully tight, I struggled with trying to do the most basic stretches, like toe-touching. Of course I didn’t realize the problem until after I dropped my Tae-Keon-Do class, and stop doing my weekly stretching.

But today, I got back to my apartment after traveling out of state for a finale viewing party. After spending a few more hours snacking and looking online at more peoples reactions and tributes (which I was already up until three last night doing), I decided I finally need to step out. It has been pleasantly brisk day, and it was the perfect time for a run. I got out the door at six, started walking down the sidewalk, and quickly realize jogging shorts weren’t going to cut it.

So I went back in, marched upstairs, and put on the outdoor-workout pants that can retain heat, which had been sitting at the top of my hanger closet for over half a year.

I’ve been watching the fallout of the finale with more tension in my stomach then at any point of the finale actually airing (with one, maybe two exceptions, but I’ll get around to describing those). People keep posting about what they're doing to commemorate the show and little rituals like long walks they do. Or on the opposite spectrum, getting pissed over villains.

I did get sad during part of the finale, and one scene legit makes me cry. But all those things had to do with seeing help characters had actually progressed. I guess I’d already come to grips a while back I about the chronology of the show itself ending. I still have the friends that I made within reach of the visitation and contact, and have plenty of fan works I STILL have to experience. I think I may have realized that self-assuredness during the final Bronycon, where I felt touched by the final send off, but I never felt the urge to break down or dread.

I get more personally sad when I fans open up their hearts and pour the contents all over the Internet.

(If you only have time for one, watch this first one; it really is the best, even if I think the latter two are underappreciated)

I guess I could give it a shot. A chapter of a very special collective consciousness is ending. The weather’s shifted over enough that I’ve had to alter my physical habits. It’s cold. While I prefer shorts, autumn is still my favorite time of year. So I guess I did find a personal metaphor to hawk to Bronies on the Internet.

And it turned out to be in my pants.