As you know, I’m embracing the outdoors and loving being about the fittest I’ve ever been in my whole entire lengthy life! I have been hiking over 30 miles a week, and I truly love it. There is absolutely no “should” in my mental processes as I wake up. I really look forward to getting on the trail and hike/jogging my way through the 4.5 miles each morning.
My skin is naturally sun kissed and glowing. I get in the shower each morning afterwards, sweaty and hot, and come out tingling. It’s a great feeling. Then around 5pm I start to naturally fade. Last night I hit the hay at 9.30pm, somewhat shocking the kids, but I honestly could hardly keep my eyes open. I slept like a rock until 6.15am, and woke up feeling fantastic (and with a paw on my face, courtesy of Jet). I recently told my neighbor to visit babystrollercenter.com so she could find some great strollers so while she went on a jog, she could finally take her baby with her and didn´t have to worry about having to find someone to take care of her.
This past week or so I have discovered that jogging parts of my trail ups the ante quite a bit. My lungs open wider, I move faster (amazing, I know), and I just know the calories are burned faster. When I began to wonder if one day I could actually run the whole way on the 4.5 mile trail, it was like a seed was planted – or a carrot to tease me. Either one.
And so now I’m jogging quite a bit. Which was fabulous, except for the boobs. I’ll speak frankly.
Nature has endowed me lusciously with a rack that, when it used to remain in my chest area without scaffolding wire support, was, as they say, ‘spectacular’. It’s a shame because I never really saw the benefits of them (other than their brilliant performance in the role they were intended for) until they descended mercilessly upon my waistline and now, finally when I’ve moved somewhere that bras in my size are somewhat attractive, I feel like the person who decides to take a cruise the day after the ship leaves – I can make them look good but simply couldn’t be bothered.
So hang there they do. Usually inoffensive and held up in the chest region by underwires or the more comfortable but uni-boob-creating Cross Your Heart 18-hour bra. (That’s the ONLY bra you should wear on a long haul plane flight by the way. If you wear an underwire you will take it off by hour five and when your child lies on your lap to sleep as he most definitely will, his resounding “mum, your boobs are all squishy” will echo around the otherwise silent plane where people who might appear asleep will grin. I will not tell you how I know this, but I do.)
And so now I’m jogging a bit. And for the last month Shari and Elisabeth have had to listen to me gripe about not having a bra that can cut it. Seriously people, if we can split the atom then we’ve managed to keep it still and halve it. Surely we can do the same with boobs? I have read reviews, researched the situation, tried on about forty bras and in frustration sent a stream of swear words via text message to Shari. (She laughed. A lot.)
I have adopted plan B – standard bra with a really tight strap down over-bra. I still don’t like glimpsing my shadow as I jog, but at least I don’t get black eyes any more. I am finally at the point where most of my body stops moving when I stop jogging. And that’s good enough. I jog around a mile on a good day, and hike the rest. Let’s see if I (and my boobs) can keep it up!