Just a few weeks ago, I was banging my head against my desk, moaning about how summer was never going to arrive. Then, as usual in Toronto, the temperatures seemed to spike overnight, putting the fear of god in me about wearing a bathing suit. Instead of swimsuit shopping, I bought a new pair of running tights. After a few solid weeks of jogging, my theory goes, I’ll be more mentally—if not physically—prepared to try on a two-piece. They’re Nike’s Sculpt leggings, which have a high waistband (it sits just below my belly button) that hides my muffin top, and extra compression to suck in and lift wobbly parts (compression pants also improve blood flow, which is why so many runners swear by them). They do such a good job of taming the mid-section, you can easily pair them with only a sports bra for an on-trend, crop-top look. I tend to scoff at pricey, fashion-y gear because running is a gross, sweaty and, for me, a deeply solitary endeavor; who cares how I look? But after trying these tights, I get it. I actually look forward to wearing them, and sometimes getting dressed for a run is half the battle.