Everyone needs a good support system
When was the last time you went shopping for a sports bra?
No, not a regular bra, but one of those super elasticized numbers designed to keep your girls from moving while you work out?
Last week, I started going to the gym with a friend. Hey, since the membership is free with the apartment rental, I may as well use it, right? Anyway, after our first session bouncing and bobbing our way along on the treadmill, it because pretty obvious that we had some shopping to do. For two girls who like to shop, it was the perfect excuse to head up to Anthem and hit the outlets!
We went to the Nike outlet first, because my friend wanted a new pair of sneakers. I figured I probably could use a pair too, but they weren't top priority. A sports bra (or two) was.
I picked up this black number. It looked like a regular bra, except the straps crossed in the back. Okay, I could handle this. I went over to the dressing room and got the attendant to let me in.
Let me tell you, this was no regular bra. Seriously, you could have taken someone out with this thing. Those cool criss-crossing straps? Potentially lethal weapons, for sure. I had to try to get my head in there, and those straps didn't leave a whole lot of room for manuevering.
Also, I don't know what evil genius invented the elastic that this thing was constructed from, but it was STRONG. I've never seen anything like it. Because of it's strength, I had to pull really hard to stretch the straps so my big old head would fit in the stupid thing. Of course my hand slipped off of one, and the resulting effect was not unlike a slingshot to the side of my head.
I finally managed to get the dang contraption on, and it HURT. It said it was my size (and yes, I've been measured) but it was so tight I couldn't breathe! My boobs were squished flat against my chest. They weren't going ANYWHERE. I decided that this was not the sports bra for me.
Ha ha, if I thought putting it ON was hard, taking it off was nothing short of masochistic! I even got stuck at one point, and was terrified that I was going to have to have the attendant (big, sweaty guy, wearing a SWEATSHIRT in JUNE, ew) free me from this straightjacket from hell. I finally managed to get it over my head, only to get the hooks firmly tangled in my hair. As I was trying to get those out, I spun around and whacked my funny bone hard on the doorway. My friend (who was done trying on 6 or 7 different things in the time it took me to try this ONE sports bra) asked me what the hell I was doing in there.
Never again my friends. From now on, I stick to the cotton pull-over-your-head-tank-top style.
No, not a regular bra, but one of those super elasticized numbers designed to keep your girls from moving while you work out?
Last week, I started going to the gym with a friend. Hey, since the membership is free with the apartment rental, I may as well use it, right? Anyway, after our first session bouncing and bobbing our way along on the treadmill, it because pretty obvious that we had some shopping to do. For two girls who like to shop, it was the perfect excuse to head up to Anthem and hit the outlets!
We went to the Nike outlet first, because my friend wanted a new pair of sneakers. I figured I probably could use a pair too, but they weren't top priority. A sports bra (or two) was.
I picked up this black number. It looked like a regular bra, except the straps crossed in the back. Okay, I could handle this. I went over to the dressing room and got the attendant to let me in.
Let me tell you, this was no regular bra. Seriously, you could have taken someone out with this thing. Those cool criss-crossing straps? Potentially lethal weapons, for sure. I had to try to get my head in there, and those straps didn't leave a whole lot of room for manuevering.
Also, I don't know what evil genius invented the elastic that this thing was constructed from, but it was STRONG. I've never seen anything like it. Because of it's strength, I had to pull really hard to stretch the straps so my big old head would fit in the stupid thing. Of course my hand slipped off of one, and the resulting effect was not unlike a slingshot to the side of my head.
I finally managed to get the dang contraption on, and it HURT. It said it was my size (and yes, I've been measured) but it was so tight I couldn't breathe! My boobs were squished flat against my chest. They weren't going ANYWHERE. I decided that this was not the sports bra for me.
Ha ha, if I thought putting it ON was hard, taking it off was nothing short of masochistic! I even got stuck at one point, and was terrified that I was going to have to have the attendant (big, sweaty guy, wearing a SWEATSHIRT in JUNE, ew) free me from this straightjacket from hell. I finally managed to get it over my head, only to get the hooks firmly tangled in my hair. As I was trying to get those out, I spun around and whacked my funny bone hard on the doorway. My friend (who was done trying on 6 or 7 different things in the time it took me to try this ONE sports bra) asked me what the hell I was doing in there.
Never again my friends. From now on, I stick to the cotton pull-over-your-head-tank-top style.
Miss M told you so @ 12:22 AM
3 Comments:
LOL...my girls are natrually flat against my chest...LOL. You crack me up!!
Zee
or just do what I do and wear two at a time! I never understood how it's helpful to be supported, and yet unable to breathe! Sheesh..:-)
I just love this post -keeps me laughing! Hilarous!!
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