Jogging for Fun and Exercise

"I... fucking... hate... this" I groaned to myself in the rhythm of my footsteps on mud. I had been jogging a couple of months now and it still felt like the worst thing of my life. Not just the burning muscles and gasping lungs, but the knowledge that my best years are over. In my youth everything was easy, my body required no long term attention, a spray of hairspray in my black pixie cut hair, a light splash of makeup, a padded bra for my b-cups, and a short enough skirt to let my long legs do the work was all I required to show off. It was almost exactly on my 25th birthday that I lost my ability to eat whatever I wanted, do no exercise, and still maintain a relatively trim figure.

"Fuck... you... trees." Words I pushed through my gritted teeth, swearing at my surroundings now a familiar coping mechanism for the final part of my run. "Fuck... you... lake." I didn't take much of an expansion of my tummy to get me to take the drastic step of actually exercising. My one saving grace was living near enough to Richmond Park to have beautiful scenery to swear at as I ran. I had decided to start jogging early in the morning to avoid other people and to have time to shower before work, but as October rolled on I found myself jogging in the almost darkness of the earliest dawn, Richmond being a safe (and wealthy) enough place to do so.

"Fuck it that will do." I exclaimed collapsing onto a tree stump to catch my breath before my resigned walk home, taking my phone out of its jogging case to check the pedometer app. I took a moment to admire my surroundings now the unyielding slog of jogging had stopped and with it my desire to see everything burn.

The trees were shedding the last of their brown leaves, the pond was silent and still, the naked woman was doing a better job of jogging than me...

Wait.

"Holy crap!" I inadvertently shouted. There was a woman wearing nothing but jogging shoes and a phone strap on her arm. There was a blur of blonde hair as she heard me and gave a high pitched yelp before diving back towards the clump of trees she had emerged from, her bottom jiggling with her sudden burst of speed.

"Wait!" I yelled not knowing why, I doubt she actually would have and if she did, I'm not sure what I would do next. I certainly wasn't about to chase after her as I was barely going to be able to make my way home my legs were so weak. I had my phone in my hand but it never occurred to me to take a picture or anything, not that I would need it, the sight of her naked body was immediately burned into my brain.

I made my way home thinking about her perky breasts and how they bounced with her footsteps. I went to work thinking of her tuft of blonde pubic hair. I took the train home thinking about the shivering blush that ran the length of her body when she saw me seeing her. I ate my disgustingly healthy dinner thinking of the look of exhilaration on her face before she noticed me. I went to sleep knowing the whole day was one spent dwelling on the shock and excitement of spontaneous nudity.

The next day I prepared for my jog with a new determination, I was no longer jogging for my body, I was now jogging for hers. It was a long shot, after what happened I'm sure she would take steps to avoid being seen again, but I became the most vigilant jogger in the entire park. I was so frustrated with the lack of a naked woman's presence I didn't even notice I had jogged significantly further than usual.

This was my routine for a week, I was able to put the naked woman out of my mind day to day, but the moment my jogging shoes went on my only thought was "maybe today I will see her." I don't jog on weekends, maybe it was the lack of opportunity that drove my mind wild with frustration but by Monday I had resigned myself to the naked woman being nothing more than a fond memory. Monday's jog was the worst yet, I skipped jogging Tuesday, I just didn't feel up to it.

I spent Tuesday in a cloud of guilt, I really didn't want to be one of those people who took up exercise only to give up a month or two later, I decided I needed some form of change to keep me going. Wednesday as I stared at my running outfit I decided to give myself a taste of the thrill that the naked woman I saw must have felt. I took my sports bra and knickers and put them back in the drawer, it wasn't a lot but I would know. I pulled on my Lycra jogging trousers and red running top and examined myself in the mirror. The top was not tight enough to perfectly frame my breasts, but there was an unmistakable bulge where my nipples were stood to attention, I had always been a bit self-conscious about how my tight trousers framed my bottom, but now where the outline of my knickers used to be, there was smoothness confirming the exact contours of my butt. I quickly left my house feeling that I couldn't change my mind once I was jogging.

I thought that having smaller breasts would mean I wouldn't suffer from the lack of a sports bra, but as my tits began to bounce with the rhythm of my jog I would be lying if I said it wasn't distracting. As my run progressed I realised the scale of my mistake, my underwear wasn't just there for modesty, as my labia rubbed against the tight Lycra of my sportswear and my nipples bounced against my top fabric, I could feel the oncoming chafing and decided to stop running. It was very short of my usual distance but I had experienced chafing when I first started jogging and knew enough to know I didn't want it to happen again.

I slowed to a stop next to the first lake on my route, angry with myself for making such a stupid decision. Now I was going to have to walk home and I wouldn't have time to do a proper jog before work. Dwelling on the path to that stupid decision gave me an idea of how to mitigate its harms that I couldn't get out of my head. I cast my eyes around the lake, it was as uninhibited as it always was. My hands shivered as I pulled my top over my head, my whole body began to shiver next as I nervously pulled my trousers down, clumsily bundling them over my running shoes. I was now as naked as she had been.

I stood looking out over the lake, the cold October air chilling my whole body. In its panicked state my brain began to rationalise as best it could my new circumstances. "Think of the calories you're burning" it reasoned. "Your heart is pumping a mile a minute, heat is leaving your body yet your insides feel like they're burning. This must be helping."

I realised I had been stood still for too long, and decided I would do one lap of the lake naked, leaving my clothes next to the stump to give me a reason to go as fast as I could. It felt like my first time jogging, willing my right foot to take that first step, starting so that continuing would be easier than stopping. I groaned with effort and bounced into my first step. A step became a jog, a jog became a run and before I knew it I was sprinting around the lake, my curves bouncing while my breath floated in the air. My skin grew cold with the breeze and slick with sweat but my core was warm and my pussy felt like it was on fire.

I was about three quarters of the way around when I saw the deer. I always liked that I was able to live in London and yet be near a park with deer in it, Richmond Park was special that way. But this fucking deer had decided that even though there was acres of grass for it to chew on, my clothes looked more tasty for it. My eyes bulged in disbelief as the deer sauntered up to my clothes and lowered its head. I wanted to shout to scare it away but at the same time I didn't want to risk drawing attention to myself in case there was someone nearby. I summoned every reserve of strength I had to sprint at the damn thing.

The deer clearly heard the sounds of my heavy footsteps as it looked up, my trousers dangling out of its mouth. On seeing a furious naked woman charging towards it the deer did what any deer would do and bolted, but to my horror it didn't drop my trousers as it ran into a wooded area.

Deers are annoyingly fast. I couldn't outrun a deer in optimal conditions let alone with my tits bouncing around and my mind clouded by how humiliating this situation is. I managed to keep it in sight, which I figured would have to do. Eventually it ran out the other side of the wooded area and into a clearing that I at least had the presence of mind not to follow it into.

Richmond Park is like a mini national park in the south of London, one thing it has on top of the deer, the lakes, the wooded areas and the clearings, is roads used by everyone who wants a scenic route to work. This fucking deer had just stopped next to one of these roads so it could eat my trousers. It was still early enough that the road was not the usual constant stream of cars, but there was no time that this road was empty. I crouched in the wooded area, watching from behind a tree as the deer chewed on my trousers before a car drove by, scaring the deer enough for it to drop them and run.

My trousers were within reach, all I had to do was wait for a break in traffic. I spent so long waiting for there to not be cars that the sun was beginning to rise, eventually I decided that the road was getting busier by the minute and I would have to resign myself to being seen. I waited for the biggest break I could find and made a run for it, my head in my hands. I got lucky that I was able to make it to my trousers before any cars appeared, snatching them off the ground and sprinting towards the woods where I would be safe until I got back to the lake.

The moment I had my trousers in my hand I heard the engine of a car approaching. I turned my back on the road and ran, knowing at least one car would see my naked bottom before I would be hidden. I didn't look back but I did hear two different horns honking behind me. Maybe someone will dwell on my naked body the way I dwelled on that other lady's.

Once clear of the road I put my trousers on and went to pick up my top. With the first step I realised something was wrong, that bastard deer had chewed a hole right in the crotch, looking down I could see the black fuzz of my pubic hair poking out of the front as well as more of my pale skin then I would have liked. Once I had reclaimed my top (thankfully right where I left it, unmolested by deer) I began the ultimate walk of shame, my hands covering my exposed pubis.

When I finally got back home I sighed in relief. A few people had passed by and wondered why I had my hands over my pussy but I'm sure the look on their face would have been different if I hadn't. Despite everything that went wrong, the rest of the day was spent daydreaming about doing it again sometime.

...

In the coming weeks I never really pushed myself as far as that first day, I tried some minor rebellions, like flashing London from the hill, or having a quick play with myself behind a tree. I remember jogging in a loose fitting vest with no bra and having my tits constantly bouncing out was a fun experiment. But these techniques were something to boost motivation rather than part of the routine.

November was starting to wear on when things changed again. I was doing my usual jog when a pink and black speck under a nearby streetlight caught my eye. It was another jogger so I had to dejectedly shelve my plans to do a section of my run in just my underwear. As she got closer on the path and the next streetlight shone on her, I immediately recognised her as the woman I had seen naked about a month ago, that image was so burned into my brain there was no mistake. Sure now she was dressed in a sleek jogging outfit but there was no mistaking that mischievous face and curly blonde hair. My stomach dropped at the presence of someone who had been on my mind for so long and in panic I casually rerouted into a separate path and then hid in a bush to avoid passing her.

Just off the path my mind raced, I had spent a good amount of time hoping to run into the naked jogger again but had no idea what I should do now she was on the same path as me.

Well I had one idea.

In a frenzy, before my better senses could stop me, I began to strip off my clothes. Naked and shivering in the cold winter morning, I decided to wait for the sound of footsteps to get closer and then I would jog alongside her naked. I was only naked in that bush for a moment or two but it felt like a lifetime. I questioned how she would react? What was she going to do? What if she laughs, or attacks me, or what if I had been fixated so long on that naked woman I was seeing things and I was about to thrust my naked body on some unsuspecting and innocent stranger. The footsteps passed and I once again willed myself into that first step that had me jogging naked, getting ever further from my clothes.

It took a few steps before she glanced behind her. What a sight I must have been; pale skin in the moonlight, tits bouncing everywhere, probably a look on my face somewhere between ravenous and mortified. She stopped to stare for a second and I felt it appropriate to stop next to her. There was a couple of seconds of stunned silence that began to feel much longer than was comfortable so I decided to break it by pretending everything was normal.

"Having a good run?" I nonchalantly enquired.

"Clearly not as enjoyable as yours," she chuckled. Eventually after another uncomfortable silence, my embarrassment got the better of me.

"Ever since I saw you jogging naked, I have thought about it every day and sometimes I do something like this!" I blurted out like a schoolgirl confessing to a teacher. She gave my naked body a look up and down, before peeling off her top. I couldn't believe it, she was also getting naked, I saw that same hesitation and fear giving way to resolve and soon she stood as naked as I was. I couldn't help but stare, she was a bit older and our tits were the same size but everything else was more trim and toned.

"Top of the hill and back?" She asked. In stunned silence I gave a nod and we began to jog. The feeling was everything I hoped it would be, the rush of air and the feeling of risk tempered with the reassurance of having someone else with you. As we got to the top of the hill I couldn't keep the grin off my face as we stopped to stretch.

"I've always wanted a jogging partner." My new friend mused. "How about we jog together every day?" Overwhelming joy rose up inside of me at her suggestion, naked and on the top of London, we exchanged information. She introduced herself as Scarlett and we decided to meet at the edge of the park every morning at 6:00. We both agreed we wouldn't be jogging naked every time, but we would push some boundaries, it turns out she had been on a similar journey to mine in terms of the evolution of her jogging habits.

We had been chatting so long, it was Scarlett that noted the sun was coming up and that we should probably get back to our clothes before the park cleaners put them in the bin (something that had happened to her once.) We ended up jogging at a slow pace so that we could continue swapping stories and then I picked up my clothes and went home to prepare for work.

I when I first dragged myself kicking and screaming into doing some exercise, I felt like I was going to hate it but it would be a down payment on a happier life. I never could have envisioned that the jogging itself wouldn't just be fun, it would be the thing I look forward to most of every day. Every day I made sure to make it to the park entrance by six and felt a deep squeal of joy deep inside me when Scarlett was waiting for me with a cheeky grin on her face. Most commonly we would jog like normal people, no surprises. We had a sort of unspoken understanding that was how it would be unless circumstances outside of our jog made us want to try something different, at which point one of us tended to have an idea and the other would contribute the drive to go through with it or even improve upon it.

No corner of Richmond Park was a stranger to our antics, Scarlett loved my loose fitting vest idea, while she showed me this fun trick to jog along the road wearing thick tights without underwear, fooling driver's into thinking you're wearing yoga pants while you know anyone looking closely enough would be able to see your pussy. Before long months had passed and it was early May when Scarlett discussed an idea she had for our jogging group.

"So every so often I take a jogging holiday, it's exactly like it sounds. Anyway, I thought this year I could bring a friend." She suggested as we jogged.

"How much will it cost?" I asked, excited at the prospect but mindful that most of my paycheque went to Richmond level rents.

"Nothing for you, I am far wealthier than I have ever mentioned, in fact part of what I like about our friendship is those day to day concerns don't matter to the likes of us. Nevertheless, in July I have flights to a holiday house on the Faroe Islands for a long weekend, Thursday to Sunday, and I would be thrilled if you came as my guest." My head was spinning, not just at the free holiday but what it would entail, I barely hesitated in saying yes. She gave me the dates and now I had something to look forward to.

As summer rolled around and temperatures began to rise, the anticipation of the holiday ahead made everything else fall into a mundane routine. Scarlett even suggested that despite our feelings, any time we had an idea for how we wanted to de-stress during our jogs, we should make a note of it for the holiday rather than acting on it immediately. A good idea but one that really made me begin to stress in the days ahead. Eventually it was holiday time and I met Scarlett at Gatwick airport.

I think the flights to the Faroe Islands was the first time Scarlett and I actually chatted about our lives. She had started a couple of internet companies out of University when the net was young, eventually hitting the jackpot of being bought out by a bigger company and leaving her a relatively young millionaire at 33, now taking any consultancy jobs that excited her. Jogging appeared to be her only hobby outside the workplace and until I came along she viewed it as a lonely release.

When we landed at the airport, I was amazed that on top of our business class flights, Scarlett had booked a helicopter to take us from the airport to the island where our cottage had been booked. As I looked out the window I marvelled at the rolling hills unfolding before me, there was simply no way to understate how beautiful the Faroe Islands are. Once we reached the helipad, a rental car was waiting for our final part of the journey. Scarlett drove us to the front door of a large yet cosy cottage in a small fishing town and we spent the evening unpacking and getting rested.

On day one we woke up at the crack of dawn as was our routine, but we looked out over the mountains, our minds filled with ideas. We had decided that I would pick the day one activity as Scarlett had some ideas for days two and three. Before we started Scarlett showed me the jogging backpacks she had prepared, they contained all the things necessary for safe exploration; a compass, a whistle, energy bars, and plenty of water. More importantly it contained thermal blankets so we could leave the house in as little as we wanted and not end up freezing to death on a hillside (the Faroe Islands are a cold place even in summer).

Once Scarlett had shown me our backpacks, I showed her the outfits we would be wearing on day one, we both agreed that we would be spending a lot of time jogging naked, but we were still in the middle of a village and we needed something to wear until we had the rolling hills to ourselves. I had bought us matching outfits, a loose fitting white vest and a short tennis skirt, to be worn without underwear, of course.

We put on our outfits and stood at the front door looking at each other, our hearts pounding in our chests. Scarlett opened the door and held it open for me as I stepped out into the world. The Faroe Islands weren't especially cold, but the wind was vicious, whipping around all my exposed skin and threatening to lift my short pleated skirt. As Scarlett left the house I saw a shiver run up and down her body as she came to the same conclusion. We began to jog down the road and towards the large hill we had decided to jog to the top of today, keeping a slow pace and occasionally laughing as the wind caught one or both of our skirts and we gave anyone who was there to see it a good view of our bottoms. The town remained quite sleepy and abandoned despite our show.