When your bust size hinders attempts to get fit

I am sorry if I offend anyone with the following post, but it is something close to my heart and I need to get it off my chest – literally.

I am going to talk about bust size. My bust size.

I have put that sentence in bold italics so anyone who may find themselves upset about talk of large bras and boob pain can leave right now . . .
I am top heavy. Always have been.
Even in my slimmer pre-children days I was in a C cup, which for any guys out there who don’t know, it’s comfortably a large handful.

Now I am carrying extra weight, I am very top heavy.
I have gone up to an E cup. I flirted with D, then on to DD, then stopping off at the over-shoulder-boulder-holder E.
Of course, my husband thinks this is “bloody great. That is what cleveage is supposed to be like”.
But I HATE it.
“Think of all those women who pay to have a big bust,” he reasons.
“But they haven’t the first idea of how it feels and I bet you they’re bloody miserable after it’s done,” I reply.

First of all, having a larger bust means I look heavier than I actually am.

It also makes clothes buying a nightmare. How many shirts have I tried on that fit great but the buttons are straining to meet over my bra? Dresses are a no no unless I want to look like I’m on the game.

Then there is the fact that I feel like they are my face. Seriously, at work I had to remind a couple of guys that my eyes were in fact slightly north of where they were looking.

And finally, and most importantly here, they bloody hurt when I get physical. No, not THAT physical, I’m talking about when I’m running or jumping or taking up a slight jog (which is sort of why I took up walking instead).

Can you imagine what a nightmare jogging has become? I have to wear two sports bras to keep these babies under control.

I went through a stage thinking it must just be me. ‘Bloody hell’, everyone is thinking, ‘if that’s all you’ve got to moan about then I’d much rather be in your shoes’. But then a good friend of mine confessed she feels exactly the same (hello Michelle!) and I felt almost vindicated.

I know, I know, it’s all funny and you’re all going to think of jokes that use the words ‘uplifting’ but for me it has become a motivating factor.

Last week David Wright asked what our motivators were and I banged on about my health and my kids and my vanity. But then I stopped and thought about it and do you know what, I want to reduce the size of my bust to pre-baby size. Manageable size. A size that will fit back into the rather gorgeous underwear husband used to buy for me (which he doesn’t now because it’s usually met with a snort and a ’you don’t honestly think I’ll fit in there do you?’)

Weight gain and loss, coupled with babies and breastfeeding can play havoc with a girl’s boobage, so I know I am very lucky to have maintained a pair that don’t need to be tucked into my waistband or can sweep the carpet (as four-time mum Ulrika Jonsson apparently announced on Celebrity Big Brother this week!)

I suppose it’s the same for all of us – men or women – we don’t just want to look good, we want to feel good too.
Well, I don’t feel good with a pair of Es right under my nose. I want my little Cs back.

And yes, those are my very own bras in the photo. And no I cannot fit into most of them. I keep them ‘just in case’ and to remind me what I am aiming for.

NOTE: An update on the keep fit equipment I bought to aid my New Year, New Me approach.
The pedometer was a huge hit – with my 6-year-old son. When I get it back off him (he thinks it’s the best thing EVER and jogs around the house trying to beat the ‘high score’ of 10,000) I’ll let you know how many steps I’m achieving!

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