I’ve put on a bit of weight this year; I’d say 10 pounds or so. I blame middle-age, several rounds of prednisone, and fatigue that renders me almost bedridden. Thankfully, the prednisone is out of my life (for now), and the fatigue is at bay. However, at some point during my last flare-up, I lost my thigh muscles. I can’t find them anywhere. Mind you, I have plenty, plenty, of thigh. Just no muscle.
With any move I make, I jiggle. Parts I never knew I had are jiggling. It’s a funny feeling. *blink*…Whoa! Did my eyelids just quiver?I’ve always been thin- too thin. It comes from chronic inflammation, disease… all the fun stuff. In all honesty, I’m quite happy with my weight. It’s healthy. It’s the muscle loss that I don’t like. And since more flares are coming (eventually), I’d like to do what I can to build strength now.
Enter the sports bra. I haven’t purchased one in years. They’ve changed a lot in that space of time, let me tell you. (What hasn’t eh?) Those bras come in all colors, and are even designed for specific activities- like running or lifting. They have all sorts of ways to support the bosom. It was a bit intimidating standing in front of those racks of neon and spandex.
I’ve gone up a size or two. So have “the girls”. Everything’s expanded! I grabbed what I thought would fit, and went to try it on. I discovered immediately that with firm support comes decreased flexibility. Let me explain. I could hardly stretch the stupid thing wide enough to get in. It was like giving birth. Oh, the struggle! Grunting and pushing, until finally… there’s the head! Then I still had to get my blasted arms through the thing. I looked pretty ridiculous. I won’t describe the view I saw in the full length mirror. Sadly, I can’t forget it either.
But I did it. I got it on. All by myself-
though it was looking sketchy there for a moment.
It was hard to look at the way everything that didn’t fit in the bra hung out the side. When did I get bat wings? I felt like a tube of GoGurt wrapped in a rubber band. Sigh…
If you’ve ever had a tourniquet on your arm, imagine having one around your chest. Dear Lord! I can hardly breathe! Okay, I’m thinking. This must’ve been a small. By some great miracle, I reached for the tag to check. Nope. Medium. MEDIUM. I am a medium. For my build, my frame, my pride…I was not going to buy a bigger size. I rationalized by telling myself they are engineered this way. They are supposed to give you the sensation of cuddling with a boa constrictor. It’s all in the name of fitness. Hey- no pain, no gain, right?
I bought it.
I’ve worn it during my home workouts. Please realize, I have no intentions of getting a sculpted, hard body, becoming a bikini model or getting super sexy. My goals are simple. I want strength. I want to be able to lift and dig and work without straining. And you know what else? I want to fit in my sports bra.