I get dressed every day of my life. Almost. (What, you’ve never spent a day in your jammies?)
And somehow the dog knows when I’m getting dressed in running clothes. Usually we let him out if we’re going to get dressed to run, but with as cold as it is, we can’t leave him out there very long. (He’s got practically no fat and very short hair.) Once he realizes I’m pulling on tights, he loses his beans and is crazy until we get out the door.
I wish I was always that excited about going for a run.