Wednesday, September 17, 2008

W.W.J.D.

Last night was the first episode of the new season of Biggest Loser. Feeling inspired by their double digit loss after double digit loss, I decided that I would kick it up a notch at the gym today. I also decided that I needed to dress appropriately for the battle and reached to the back of the drawer for the Enell Sports Bra that I bought four years ago. I've tried it on a couple times, but have never worked out in it because it makes my typically robust tatas look like one flat as a crepe uniboob which results in my gut looking even bigger. The twins have never ridden so high as when encompassed by an Enell.

I got the Enell after Oprah touted it as her favorite sports bra ever. After promising that your girls wouldn't move an inch in this thing, I jumped online and ordered the most expensive bra I've ever owned. When I got it I tore into the package and swore I heard the Hallelujah Chorus as rays of sunlight shown upon it. It was the bra of all bras. It fastens in the front and must have a good 20 hooks to hold back the flood gates. I slipped into it like a vest and tried to pull it together and get it fastened. Oh there is just no way. I obviously ordered the wrong size. I grabbed the little note card that came with it. It explained that it would be a very tight fit. It gave instructions on how to fasten it, and that once you do get it fastened, to reach down inside and pull the girls up to report for duty. Since when do bras need instructions? I've pretty much had this down since 5th grade. Nevertheless, I followed the instructions and got strapped in. I looked in the mirror and finally knew what it was like to be an A cup, cuz my lovely lady lumps were AWOL! My gaze drew lower to my abnormally giant gut. I stripped out of that bra and refused to work out in it with a gut like that.

Well, four years later, today was that day. I strapped in and headed to the gym. I've apparently lost just enough weight not to be completely mortified as long as I sucked my gut in whenever anyone looked in my direction. As I drove to the gym I felt confident that if S.W.A.T. should call, me and my new flak jacket were ready to serve. This thing is heavy and thick and I felt like I could either stop bullets with it or deflect even the fiercest of X-rays. I also felt like I was losing circulation, but forge on I did.

I started by lifting weights, which is surprisingly easier when you trade in DD's for A's. When I moved over to do the elliptical I chose the harder model. Not all ellipticals are created equal and this one kicks my butt. I was sweating all up in my Enell and was out of breath by the 10 minute mark. I wanted off this thing. I wanted to go home. I wanted to curl up in a ball in the corner and suck my thumb. Then it hit me. W.W.J.D.? No, not What Would Jesus Do...I'm pretty sure Jesus was gifted with a killer metabolic rate and working out is not on his list of things to do. I mean What Would Jillian Do? If I were on Biggest Loser and Jillian were my trainer, what would she do if I were gettin' all pansy on her ass? I imagined her getting in my face and screaming at me. Telling me to keep going. I pressed onward to 15 minutes. At that point I felt like I'd earned an out, but there was Jillian telling me that unless I faint, puke, or die, I better not quit. "Just FIVE MORE MINUTES!" She is so not as cute when screaming in your face as she is on TV and I am wholly confident that I could snap her like a twig if I could just catch her spry little ass.

After 20 minutes I peeled myself off the elliptical and I stood in front of one of the fans to catch my breath and evaporate some of the sweat from my brow. With Jillian on my heels I also did 20 minutes on the recumbent bike. At this point, I no longer cared W.J.W.D. and I headed home. I considered taking the Enell off in the car as I drove, but I didn't want to put out an eye with the force that they'd explode forth with once set free. As soon as I walked in the door I started to release the hounds and I let a out a Braveheart worthy roar of "FREEEEEEEDOM!" I think I need a hug from Trainer Bob now. Yum.

7 comments:

Carlos said...

good for you. sounds like a great workout. personally im against sports bras,but i guess they are practical.

Elizabeth said...

Why must I continue reading your blogs at work? I'm having to physically put my hands over my mouth to restrain from busting up. I gotta google this Enell thing for sure!
:)

Sophia said...

Hey, where are you? How goes the good fight? :)

Carlos said...

where you been, yo?

ChristinaJane said...

hi, Kelly - I'm not sure that I've ever posted to your blog before, but just know that you're missed. I know that there are several of us who've been struggling (Carlos and I just two) lately, so I hope you're still fighting the good fight, or perhaps willing to jump back in Carlos' boat with us.
Hope all is well, Christina

Timah said...

Missing your posts, Kelly. Hope all is well.

Carlos said...

come on kelly... email me an let me know that you aren't trapped under something heavy cholguin@gmail.com