Y’all missed me?  I bet.  I’m the friggin brightest spot in your day, right?  So I was at the Inaugural Nike Women’s Half Marathon in DC, which I will tell you awllll about later.  Give you a little preview though, it was good!

So onto the stuff.

I pulled my laundry out, pre-race, and LOOK just LOOK, look, at what I found!  One of the hooks broke off of my Juno, the best bra ever, leaving me fairly braless for my race.  Whatever, I made it work.

The story behind the bra?  This bra really kind of changed things for me.  So mid grad school, I was hired to teach Zumba at the best place in the whole world, a little slice of heaven, Camp Pocono Trails, a weight loss camp nestled in the Poconos.  (If you ever watched “Fat Camp” on MTV, you’ve seen where we were).  I felt so weird about my body.  I wasn’t in great shape, and my boobs (sorry boys) were the bane of my existence.  My mother, whom I swore was so wrong, convinced me not to go for a reduction, citing that “You’re reading all those magazines and Rihanna looks like a little boy.  Is that who you want to look like?!?!”  A roommate of mine who was endowed similarly told me to go to Omega, and get this bra.  It was the first bra I’d ever found for girls like me, with a large chest, that would protect, compress, and not make me feel like a big fool, flopping down the street, as I struggled to get on the health train.

The bra took me through that summer.  It traveled with me to classes, certifications, licensures.  It ran down the street with me shirtless, making sure nothing fell out of place.  I sweated.  I doubted.  I accomplished.  The bra is actually a little big, beacause I did’t by a new when I lost a few pounds.  And now, I think it’s time to let the bra go.  Bras shouldn’t see a birthday, and this guy saw three.  So RIP, Juno.  I’m not ready to throw it out yet.  Should I have it framed?