I’ve got big boobs and I cannot lie

Holy shit. Jumping up and down when your knockers are DD and you’re wearing a regular bra? PAINFUL. My choices are to not jump or hold my boobs as I do. Neither is really optimal. I knew sports bras were supposed to help, but I had bought them in the past and they were worse than regular bras.

I was on my way into David’s Teas the other day and had to pass The Running Room. On a whim I walked in and asked about sports bras in my big boob size. And they actually had them. I bought one.

And OMG I want to divorce Jason and marry my sports bra.

While I still bounced a little during class, it was nothing like before. And it didn’t hurt one bit. I was giddy with happiness and kept wanting to flash the other women in the class and announce “Look! My boobs are all squished and protected!”

The bra cost almost sixty bucks, but Jesus it was well worth it.


A week in

So I’m a week in to my new exercise regime which consists of going to Krista’s Fusion Class three times a week and getting my ass handed to me. Sweet Lord love a duck it’s HARD. So fucking hard. And I am sore all the time. I’m assuming at some point my energy levels will increase and I’ll stop feeling like I’ve been hit by a snow plow. But as of now? Nope.

But …. I’m still enjoying the class for the most part. I love the cardio and I’m getting better at the weights. As for the floor work where we concentrate on things like abs or ass and get to do leg lifts, push ups, planks and such I think you would have to be mentally deficient to enjoy that. It sucks. It hurts. It’s hell. But I’m hearing it’s going to be worth.

I sure hope.

Scared shitless

So, I walk into where the exercise class I’ve signed up for is being held and nearly pass out. I generally don’t do well in new groups and I was walking into one that was already established. People were standing around in small groups talking, stretching. I walked in feeling like an elephant. I had no idea what I was doing, what I should be doing or what I would end up doing. I was near tears and very tempted to just bolt.

Then the instructor called my name so that I could get measures and weighed in, since I signed up for the six week weight loss challenge. Krista is da bomb. Seriously. Five seconds talking to her and I no longer felt like I was going to puke-cry-pass out.

I took my spot in the back, not really sure what kind of exercise we’d be doing. I had seen a post about the challenge on Facebook and just signed up.

Holy shit I had fun. I mean it. FUN. The music was kick-ass and the exercise was a combination of kick boxing, dance and weight training. Then there was some floor work for abs.

I left the class beyond exhausted and feeling like I was going to pass out, but for different reasons than when I walked in.  I was also smiling my face off like a twit.

Because I knew this was an exercise class I could stick to.

Four flights and puffing

I had to climb four flights of stairs today. It just about KILLED me. I mean, seriously. There was was huffing and puffing and coughing and sweating and sore legs. FOUR FUCKING FLIGHTS. That’s how out of shape I am. But I’m hoping that’ll change. I am on my way to a new-to-me exercise class that’s part of a six week fitness/healthy life/get less fat challenge I’m taking. I think the competition and also support system will help me actually stick to an exercise regime. Because even when I was somewhat skinny in my teens I was never fit. Skinny and healthy? They don’t always go hand in hand.