Cosmetics, commuting and cardio workouts

I work out first thing, 5 days a week. So do many women. I know this because when I arrive at my gym in central London it's chock full of them. It makes the changing room a really scarey place. A flailing mass of perfectly honed limbs - all, that is, except mine - bums clad in lacy thongs, hair tossed from left to right, a million hairdryers going at once, mascara wands all over the place. Women's workout kit is frankly endless, and most days if I'm having a confidence crisis, and if I ever do have one it's usually first thing in the morning, then it tends to make me want to run screaming from this hotbed of the girlie quest for perfection. It does however open up the question about what you do about make up, in the critical space between waking up and working out. Between me and the gym, lies my commute. That means taking the train, going to my office, collecting my kit, and heading for the gym. That means interaction with other people and by interaction I'm not talking about conversation. I'm not even talking eye contact. I'm talking, people who glance up at you across the train, or who look over at you en route up the road from station to office. If I'm going to do an early morning work out, in theory there is no point whatsoever in applying any make up. Right? But I'm just too vain not to do it. I cannot stand the prospect of meeting the eye of a commuter and seeing them blench at my scarey no-make-up-tousled-hair look. I'm at that age where no make up means looking ten years older. What woman wants other people to think of her as ten years older than she is - even people she doesn't know, even people who may catch a fleeting glimpse of her and no more? So, make up has to be applied, even before a workout. Challenge number two. How much make up to apply? Just enough to restore artificial youth and elasticity? A full on slap just in case today's the day you meet that handsome stranger you have always imagined will encounter you in a sweaty District Line train, midway through the rush hour, and yes ladies, we've all imagined it, even as we talk about how much we hate our commutes. It figures, right, that a place where there absolutely no privacy, nowhere to hide, and so little dignity, somewhere a bit scuzzy, a bit edgy, has got to be the perfect place for a liaison. I wonder how often it happens. Point is, the mystery is enough to want you to ensure you do your very best not to take yourself out of the game for the sake of some red lippy. But if you do, then you arrive at the gym with a five minute extra task of taking it all off before you start your work out. Or, you opt for Disgusting Option Number Three, which is to apply full slap and simply not take it off. This, let's be clear, is Not A Nice Look. Sweat makes make up run, obviously, and it all runs southward to your neck - mascara, eyeshadow, blusher, bronzer, the lot. If you don't want commuters staring at your knackered, unmade up face in horror, no more do you want fellow worker outers recoiling from the puddles of diluted bronzer on your cross trainer, or from the black rivulet tramlines running steadily from your eyes to your boobs. No. The answer here is to believe all those ads that tell you their make up is INVISIBLE. If you put it on it makes you look fab but no one will know you're wearing it. That's what you need. Stands to reason if it's invisible, then nobody will notice when it runs off, right? The debate continues.