Wednesday, February 13

Some might take this as a sign

So, I hit the treadmill yesterday -- your standard 40-minute workout set to an episode of Buffy (season 3). Right when I've only got about 10 minutes left, I notice a pain in my right foot -- the toe I broke a few years back in New York feels like it's no longer connected correctly to the rest of my foot. Just as I'm about to slow my speed down, I hear a distinct "ping," and discover a mechanical failure on the part of my sports bra. Now I really need to slow the machine down, which I somehow manage while grasping desperately at my bra strap. As I stumble to a walk and try to reattach the strap, I realize things are far worse than I had imagined. My strap didn't just come unattached -- oh, no. The clasp that held it together broke. My boob broke a metal clasp, people. And my toe fucking hurts. Now I've got about 8 minutes left, and I can't decide if I should give up and admit defeat at the hands of a Champion sports bra, or carry on for 8 minutes while smushing my boob to my chest with one hand.

I couldn't let Champion beat me, people. I finished that damn workout, thanking the lord that we bought a treadmill for home, and planning my trip to Sports Authority for a new bra -- although, truth be told, my hand did a better job than the spandex, anyway.

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