A few times a week, I get up early and hit the gym for a morning workout. On those mornings, I usually pack a bag the night before, shower at the gym after my workout and head off to tackle the day.

Wednesday was no different. A hint of fall was in the air the night before so I dug out my brown equestrian boots that hadn’t seen the light of day since the tulips started blooming last spring and tossed them in my workout bag along with a cream lace dress and Kelly green sweater.

After an intense workout, you know the kind that makes single-handedly taking off your sports bra seem like an impossible feat, I hopped in the shower and quickly dressed hoping to squeeze in a few errands before heading to the office. As I left the gym, the coolness of the morning calmed me after my world wind workout, sports bra wrangling session and what seemed like an Olympic time trial 50 yard dash of hair and makeup.

I headed to Whole Foods at the Hill Center to buy some glass bottled milk. My husband who used to eat gas station hotdogs and day old break room coffee is now apparently, too good to drink anything but antibiotic-free non-homogenized milk. Who knew the milk I’d been buying him all these years was part of some secret plot to kill him and collect his life insurance? So, there I was leaving Whole Foods, carrying glass bottled milk and a bag filled with organic heirloom tomatoes, a ball of mozzarella, fresh basil and balsamic glaze for the last Caprese salad of the quickly diminishing summer.

Catching a quick glimpse of myself in the plate-glass window, I thought how chic I looked in my brown leather boots and tortoise-shell accessories sashaying, glass bottled milk in hand. All those squats and lunges at the gym lately must have been paying off because the cream-colored dress that was a little snug through my hips a few weeks earlier was fitting quite loosely on this glorious early fall morning. I had put on a few pounds over the summer but recently, recommitted to my healthier lifestyle hitting the gym a little harder than normal and watching my diet a little closer than I had in recent months.

With renewed self-confidence brought on by the looseness of my dress, I continued my errand running stopping a few more places, the paper supply store, gas station, a local smoothie shop and finally finishing at Kroger’s in Belle Meade smack dab in the middle of what appeared to be Senior Discount Day judging from all the little blue haired ladies and one lonesome half balding old man. It was uncanny. With every errand, my dress seemed to be loosening, almost as if my body was in some supersonic metabolic fat burning mode. All my hard work was paying off at warp speed. Hallelujah!

As I walked into my office, my coworker Elizabeth gasped, “Ohhhhhhh my Lord, your dress is split.”

Darn it, hastily packing my gym bag, I had forgotten about the half-inch tear in the split. “Oh, yeah, I need to get that split fixed. It tore a little the last time I wore it.”

“No, it’s no little tear. I think I see your whole butt.”

As I reached back, that’s when I felt it, nothing but skin all the way up to the middle of my spine. My entire backside, pale pink underwear and all, was on display for God and everyone to see. My dress had become some sort of make shift artist smock, the kind you just stick your arms through to cover your front. Oh, me!

To anyone that saw me, every last bit of me, Wednesday morning, I sincerely apologize for what you witnessed. To the hipsters at Whole Foods, no, I was not starting a new fashion trend. And finally, to the half bald old man at Kroger’s, YOU’RE WELCOMED. I think we’d both agree those squats are paying off quite nicely.

Proverbs 31:25 Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.