“With a chill of foreboding, Tara approached the store front building. She knew this was going to be bad. She could feel it in the very marrow of her bones. She reached for the handle and heard the words she’d been dreading all day….. ‘Welcome to Weight Watchers!’ She flinched and convinced herself not to run. The time had come to face…..THE SCALE!”
Seriously though, the weigh in this week went pretty much exactly as I expected. I walked in there thinking that as long as I only went up 2 lbs or so, everything was cool. I went up 2.2 lbs, which is exactly in line with what I was thinking. I still lost 6 lbs over the course of two weeks, which is awesome and I’m still really happy with my progress so far. The stupid stomach flu of doom has not thrown me off track.
Moving along, I have something to confess. I have giant boobs!
It’s not so readily apparent when you meet me, although I certainly won’t strike you as a pancake, but my fat sort of allows you not to notice quite how large my chest actually is. I have also been wearing the wrong bra size, which is apparently something of an epidemic these days.
I went to a fancy bra store on Saturday because I needed a sports bra. I was kinda (kinda) ok with jogging on the treadmill with my arms crossed over my chest because I don’t tend to attempt that kind of activity level for longer than one minute at a time (I’m working up to being a runner, ok? Don’t laugh) and I’m looking stupid in the comfort of my own home. However, Zumba turned out to be, ahem, bouncier than I had anticipated and I realized that I shouldn’t knock out one of my classmates with a nunga-nunga (it’s not good manners).
Off to bra shop it was!
First, let me explain how much I hate bra shopping. I hate it! I loathe it! I despise it! I will wear bras until they’re being held together with duct tape (true story) and the under wire is but a distant memory. It always makes me hot and vaguely uncomfortable, cause I figure some stores have cameras IN their dressing rooms and my nipples are shy around strangers.
Anyway, I went shopping and it was surprisingly painfree. The girl was super nice while she was measuring me and she was very patient as I tried on bra after bra after bra (twelve in total) until I found the one I loved liked. It turns out that I’ve been buying the band size too big and the cup size too small, because even though I’ve lost a bunch of weight, I went UP one cup size from the last time I bought bras! I comforted myself with the knowledge that I went DOWN six inches in band size (although I think I might be deluding myself with how much of that was weight loss and how much was my ass-hatted inability to size myself correctly).
The bra was expensive but I jogged while wearing it today and I’ve decided it was worth every freaking penny. I can jog with my head up and my arms pumping at my sides! I am no longer the Hunchback-of-Notre-Dame-on-a-Treadmill (for yes, children, I do think that’s what the villagers would call me)!