When everything goes tits up… I either want cake or biscuits or cheesecake and when that isn’t around… I will make myself a mega white bread sandwich!

 

Today Romany Creams won!!

 

 

So, to be fair, it has been a rather shitty week, physio, no running, no training and I have been feeling rather sorry for myself all round! Today is a gym day… so I pulled myself together and got to gym really late! Did a little cycle and thought I would cheer myself up and go shopping! Retail Therapy! Isn’t that what any self respecting woman does?

 

Don’t be all judgey now and roll your eyes at me! I am in the market for a new sports bra! And trust me… this isn’t the type of thing I can easily go and buy at “Ye Ol’ Sports Shop!” My bra’s are huge… to carry my huge boobs! Over shoulder boulder holders! These girls are heavy – think of your gammon or turkey you had at Christmas! I need special artistry to keep these girls comfortable and in place while I run! And these bra’s are flucking expensive …  And to find them… well…. Its seems like a quest for Indiana Jones!

 

Right – long story short…

 

I had an appointment with a mobile studio! They do fantastic work for sure… but they don’t have stock and would probably only get stock mid-March I was told… I cancelled that appointment because I need the bra now-ish!

 

Called a local specialist bra shop on Monday and joy of joys… they had stock! And of exactly the same bra I currently wear! I was so chuffed… my gut said “please keep one aside for me” but honestly… how many 40G runners are there in the southern suburbs… surely not all of them are  going  out THIS WEEK to buy bras. So I cheerfully said “I will see you soon!”

 

I pitch up this morning and ask for the exact bra I am looking for… the sales assistant goes pulling a number of bra’s from various drawers.. I meander over and ask her if she does in fact have the SPECIFIC BRA I asked for… and she says no!

(breath Kelly…. breath)

 

She has a number of items in her hands and off we go to the fitting room. The first bra I try on has no underwire… now if you have big boobs… running with the girls squashed together is like having 2 sumo wrestlers wrapped in cling film in a tight sauna like environment! Not comfortable for anyone involved and certainly not pleasant! I need the wire that goes right up the middle to keep the girls separated and in place… its like a good fence between neighbours… essential in my opinion. So bra number 1 is a no go!

Bra 2, a black number not too different to a bra I bought for an outfit I was wearing for a wedding… so I ask… “is this a sports bra?” Hmmmm … she hesitates… “not really”.

Wait for it…

“It can work as a sports bra”

 

WTF did she just say to me!!????

 

“I am running” I explain to her, “I am not doing yoga or Pilates! But running… on a road… I need to keep my breasts in place… they must not jiggle or jive…” actually, the picture in my mind is back to the sumo wrestlers in cling film! I ask again… “where are the bras I called about at the beginning of the week… just 3 days ago!?” No answer, blank look…. She fiddles on her computer… her head office doesn’t have stock either, she could have something – maybe by the end of Feb… maybe March! In my mind I am now on the floor, throwing a temper tantrum of epic proportions… any 2 or 3 years old would have been so proud!

 

But instead, the anger festers quietly…. she takes my number and promises to call me when she has more information. Needless to say bra numbers 3 – 5 were all beige and definitely not sports bra material!

 

I leave feeling underwhelmed,  devastated, frustrated and fucking angry! I have very little hope that I will every get a call to say that they will be able to help me with the bra I am looking for! That’s just sad, isn’t it!?

 

I walk back into Cavendish and have a coffee to sooth my fire like mood… it doesn’t work and cry myself home!

 

“I hate my boobs” I tell my husband… “I want to cut the fucking things off!”

 

Its all gone tits up I tell you!