I almost started a bikini line yesterday…

So yesterday, this bikini that I ordered finally arrived at the house.

I’d been in need of a new bathing suit in forever – the last bikini I bought was this adorable pink number that I’d managed to randomly snag at the Target like two years ago.

My stepmother-in-law gave me a gift card to Victoria’s Secret, and after I searched high and low, I picked this:

Bralette

It seemed like the suit would offer me adequate coverage, all while being really cute.  Plus, I was able to pick a pretty big top, and the color was fine.  So it finally showed up, and I put it on and it was HORRIBLE on.  Absolutely horrible.  The bottom was cute, but the top wasn’t supportive at all, and my boobs were literally hanging out of the bottom of the suit.

I live close enough to the mall that I was able to run over with the invoices, and browse what they had in-store.

VS Dude: Hi, welcome to Victoria’s Secret. ::motions to the package in my arms:: Do you have an exchange for us?

Me: Yeah, I bought this online, but the top isn’t supportive at all!  I want to look around to see if I can find something.

VS Dude:  Well this stuff isn’t that supportive.  But we have stuff in the back.  You should check there.

Me: Ok cool, I’ll do that.  Do you mind hanging on to this package for me while I shop? (I figured I wouldn’t be as much of a shoplifting suspect if I wasn’t carrying a bikini around in a big empty mailing envelope.)

VS Dude: Uhhh.  Yeah no.  Will a bag work?

Me: Sure!

VS Dude: ::Disappears, never to be seen again::

So for the better part of an hour, I wandered throughout the Pink room in VS, and in this back room where all the big-boobed swimsuits hide out.  I wandered near and far.  And I found nothing.  Finally, I left in an angry huff, with no bathing suit, and feeling distinctly as though something was wrong with my body.

I know rationally that there’s nothing wrong with my body, but in those moments, I was really tempted to call a good plastic surgeon and let him or her just chop my chest down to a size that would fit a little better into a VS swimkini.  But, I’ve seen Botched, and I really shouldn’t have to hack my body, a body that can run 26.2 miles, lift, dance, and swim, to fit into a suit that rivals one I had when I was a flat-chested 12-year-old.

What I do need however, is to find a suit.  A suit that I can wear a S/M on the bottom, and like a DD on top.  Is that too hard to ask?

Where do you find your bathing suits, large-chested women? 

 

 

I couldn’t take it.

It’s super rare that I ditch a workout, but after a particularly hot trail run on Sunday night where I left completely drenched, a little nauseated, and with my achilles doing it’s own thing, I made the executive decision to meet a coworker at the pool, and pool run, instead of sacrificing my entire soul on a 95-degree trail run.

photo 1This was the trail run in question.  If you kinda look at my face, you can see my eyeliner is all runny.  I literally felt so sick after this run, and it was approximately 90ish degrees at the time of the run.

photo 2I took one feel at the humidity outside, grabbed my Kindle and bikini, and ran in the pool til I was over it.

And it was amazing.

I don’t think I’ve had the time (since the serious wedding planning started) to read a book, so it was nice to press the pause button while I tried to finish “Orange is the New Black”.

The deal is though, since I’m almost done with that book, and since I got a big fat $6 settlement in some Kindle class action lawsuit, I’m gonna need another book to read, and once we get married I’m gonna read the HELL out of some books.

Give me some books to read please!

Was this Obnoxious? What do you think?

I heard about her on the radio, and I was intrigued. A mother of three, a fitness enthusiast had posted the following photo on her Facebook page. I think at the time, the youngest was 8 months, and she’s raising a total of 3 boys.

Hot

And with the photo, came the uproar.

Some of the comments were supportive.  Some of them were nasty.  She was called everything from obnoxious to inspiring.

Here’s my thought.  I don’t know if it’s obnoxious.  I’m not a mom, and I’m not sure if I’ll be one.  But I know, even in my current place in life, that something like this makes me maybe a little, teeny bit envious, but mostly inspired.  I work hard on what I have, which makes me feel pretty confident.  Could it be better?  Probably not, I’m sexy as hell.  But I digress.

I’m trying to put myself in the shoes of some of the women who called her obnoxious.  Was it the tagline at the top?  The fact that she’s perceived as being genetically gifted?

Here’s what I think.  Maybe the tagline at the top was a little much.  But, but, big ol but, I can tell she works hard, and she’s proud off what she’s got.  And that’s okay, I think.  From what she’s said, she struggled at a time with bulimia, and now has eliminated television and gets up super early (heck, I’m not a mom and I could use some help in that department) to get her workouts in, for an hour at a time.   It sounds reasonable.

You guys know, usually I have a ton of opinions on things, but I’m really just not sure here.  What do you think? 

Running revelation.

The weather turned absolutely gorgeous today in North Carolina.  When I pushed off this morning just after 11, it was nearing 60 degrees, so I popped on a tank, some Norts (if you’ve been following along, you know what Norts are), and hit the road for a naked, headphone-free run.

Mid-run I realized something.  I didn’t do a gut check before I left.  And I haven’t done a gut check in forever.  What is the gut check, you ask? The gut check is the practice of lifting up your shirt, checking your gut region, and analyzing it from each angle while lamenting everything you’ve eaten/every day you haven’t worked out for the past week.  Usually it’s followed by some pretty self-deprecating thoughts, swearing off all junk, and trolling celebrity gossip websites for bikini pictures of Mila Kunis.

I also realized that Target has some of their bikinis out and I’m not freaking out. And I came to this – exercise makes you feel so good about yourself, there’s really no need for the pre-summer freakout, or the New Years Resolution/Spring Break workout fest, followed by a crash.  I remember (especially being an undergraduate student with a little tummy pudge), feeling awful about my body.  Freaking out when it came to bathing suit time, feeling fiercely jealous of girls who actually worked out with great bodies, and not really knowing what to do to make the changes I wanted to see in my body and in my confidence.

Going from being mean to myself to caring about myself and actually being confident didn’t happen overnight, but I’ll say this.  I’m perfectly aware I’m not a supermodel, and that a career as Naomi Campbell may not be in the cards for me.  However, the more/harder I work out, the less worried I get wrapped up in what I look like.  I’m doing the best I can, my body is looking pretty fierce, so there’s no need to freak out or complain.

So if you’re one of those ladies (or gentlemen) constantly finding yourself doing the gut check, asking your significant other if you’re fat, or comparing yourself to weekly bikini pics in InTouch Weekly, chill out!  Commit yourself to an enjoyable regimen, and the self-destructive comments and humor will seem a silly little thing you did in the past!