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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Is this Wii Fit all it’s cracked up to be? And a reboot

Hands up who has gorged themselves over Christmas with promises of tucking a couple of weight loss resolutions under that oh-bloody-hell-it’s-expanding belt in the New Year.

Well that was me.
I gorged like I’d never set eyes on such delicious wonders before.
I gorged until I made myself feel sick. And then the next day I would the same thing again.
One morning I had a chocolate off the tree for breakfast.
Little by little the treats crept in. Then the walks tailed off. Then more treats crept in.

I hang my head in shame. Not just in front of you guys, but to myself. I feel like I really let myself down.
I feel totally GREEDY.
I shovelled stuff in because it was there. Because it was rude not to. Because it’s Christmas.
Yes, yes I had all the lame excuses I could possibly think of.
And now I sit and look at the wobble and the excess flesh and the thick waist and I could cry.

So now I am resolute.
I am absolutely determined to get back on my original keep fit and weight loss wagon and stop treating my body so shockingly bad.
I need to stop feeling so bloody awful about it all the time and just do it.
I sat on my bed on Christmas morning thinking ‘I’ll wear something nice and bright today, something festive’ but nothing felt right and nothing looked right.
I felt fat and frumpy and miserable. And yet still I ate my body weight in food.

One of the motivating factors behind my weight loss goals in the first place is for health reasons. My family has a history of angina and I don’t want to make that part of my history.
Honestly, I packed that rubbish away without a second thought as to what it was doing to my arteries. Or my poor face which has broken out in all manner of eruptions.
Seriously folks, I look after my skin like it’s made of thin paper, or gold, or delicately spun spiders webs, but it has taken the full brunt of my gluttony.
So that expensive face cream I treated myself to with the dregs of my birthday money? Bloody useless when it’s up against a sea of fat and sugar and E numbers.

I am determined not to fail this time.
I don’t want to sit on my bed all upset because my favourite clothes don’t fit comfortably. I want to be writing on here that ‘bloody hell, I got into my favourite jeans today’ or ‘hooray, my bust no longer feels like it has a life of it’s own’ (that’s a whole other post altogether though . . . ).
So, I have a keep fit/lose weight kit. And here it is:

1. A pedometer: I love walking and they say the best way to get fit is to do something you love. So I aim to walk as much as possible and hope to keep a tally of my ’steps’ to see how I’m faring. I have no idea how many steps per hour/day/week is good, but I guess I just try to improve week on week.

2. Fit ball and skipping rope: I need to get rid of the bits of my body that wobble like a fat man’s chin, so I have to devise some aerobic and strengthening exercises. Yoga used to be my passion, so I aim to fit some of that in somewhere (more of that in a moment), but other than that I have a couple of exercises devised for me by a personal fitness trainer my husband paid for after baby number 2.

3. Water: This I have found really works for me. It surpresses my appetite and makes me feel great. Yes, that’s water. It’s free, it’s readily available and when my children see me drinking it all the time it encourages them to do the same.

4. Wii: Our shiny, new present from Santa which we have all become rather addicted to. We move seemlessly from a bout of tennis, to a touch of bowling, a game or two of baseball and, if we’re feeling really fit, a boxing match.
I have never had so much fun in my lounge!
I toyed with the idea of buying the Wii Fit for it but it’s so expensive and I don’t really know how good it is. I love the idea of being walked through some exercises in my own home (which I can fit it say after the children have gone to school, in during lunchtime, or in the evening) but just don’t know if it’s worth it.
I mean, I done the whole DVD thing. The Cindy Crawford one just had hubby hovering around the doorway muttering rude things, the Davina McCall one was just too bloody hard and the Shilpa Shetty yoga one was so boring I would actually run downstairs and put a wash on while making a cup of tea on the way back.
I also did the Geri Halliwell yoga one, which was OK, but once you’ve done it a couple of times and heard her say the same daft things 15 times, it’s now propping up the children’s easle after one of the legs broke.

So, my question to you out there in the know: Is the Wii Fit worth the money? Should I fork out or am I better joining a gym/paying for a class/saving my hard-earned cash?

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