Yesterday I went sports bra shopping. This is a necessary evil if you are bouncing your girls on a regular basis. I am endowed with size D breasts. Before you become envious of my hooters, keep in mind that these are not the perky Barbie Doll breasts, like the ones that had guys drooling when they watched the Baywatch lifeguards run along the beach. Mine are more like the National Geographic kind. You know what I am talking about. The kind that hang to your knees. Yup, my boobs hang low and they wobble to and fro and I can tie them in knot and I can tie them in bow and when I run I wish I could throw them over my shoulder. Oh, not so jealous now are we?
So, I am in the running section at Dick’s Sporting Goods and I look at the colorful cute tank tops made from fabric that wisks away mositure to keep you dry and fresh. Some, even have built in support. OK – false advertising there, there’s barely enough “support” to support my nipples. I move away and gander over to the colorful sports bras. The kind you see women runners wear during races and on the streets nowadays. These are the closest things that women have to going shirtless. They are so cute – colorful patterns, sporty colors, racer backs. I remember when Brandi Chastain took her shirt off after the win in soccer to reveal her sports bra and the controversy it caused. We’ve come a long way baby. Now, Women wear them everywhere in athletic events. I tried one of those kind once. I looked like I stuck an extra large Chipotle Burrito on my chest. I move away reluctantly to the ugly bra section.
Bras for women like me are not pretty. They come in white, black, or pink. No sporty colors or designs that make you feel like an athlete. They look like maternity bras. They have huge wide straps and built in wires and seams everywhere. The bonus is that that seams are covered with extra padding to prevent chaffing. Oh joy, oh bliss. I pick out my size and buy it. A young guy is at the checkout counter and I see him struggle as he lifts the huge bra and puts it into the bag. When I get home I try it on (I know you should do that at the store, but I don’t). I strap myself into the armor and feel like I am ready for a jousting battle not a nimble foot race. Nonetheless, my girls feel supported. I put on my baggy cotton T-shirt ( I can’t wear the thin breathable shirts because all the wires and seams of my bra show through) and no one is the wiser. Don’t worry world, I won’t be pulling a Brandi after a race.
