Top Blog Posts of 2017

I wrote a lot in 2017. Maybe not a lot for some people, but for me, it was a lot. I really stayed on top of getting a blog post out every week. I had a lot of good feedback from people about my writing. I so appreciate that. For real. I love to write and have been making sure to write something every day.

With this post I am up to 67 blog posts for the year. I went through all the stats from my site and wanted to share with you the top blog posts of 2017. I am listing the top 5 from the readers and also my favorite top 5 of 2017. I thank you so much for supporting my writing and taking the time to read my posts. It really means a lot to me.

I am going to list the top 5 blog posts and the links and then I am going to list my top 5 favorite posts for the year. Keep in mind that a few of the top 5 are my favorites, but I want to give you a chance to check out others.

I hope you continue to follow me into 2018. If you want to make sure to be notified when I publish a post you can go to my website and there is a place on the right side where you can subscribe to my blog posts.

And…here we go.

Top 5 – from you, the readers:

1. Mr Ellwanger – Hands down, the most popular post of 2017! Mr. Ellwanger was my gymnastics coach. Sometimes people don’t know the impact they have on others.

2. Ryan and Sam Got Married – Ryan is our nephew and this is the day of their wedding.

3. When God Closes A Door – this is about a friend who died of cancer. Such a sad time.

4. A Love Story – My and John’s beginning.

5. I Saw A Lot of Life Today – a visit to the cemetery.

My Top 5:

1. His Name Was Gary – this is about my Dad.

2.  My First Best Friend – this is about my friend, Mary.

3.  Life is Fragile – about the kids at my dad’s funeral –

4.  Ran Into An Old Friend – running into a friend I hadn’t seen in forever.

5.  Are You Afraid To Live – about facing your fears.

Thanks so much for reading. You have no idea how much I appreciate it, and you!

Ebb and Flow

As I was sitting down to write today’s blog, I was having a hard time thinking of something to write about. Sometimes, it just isn’t there. Most of the time it is. Today it wasn’t.

I started to reflect on 2017, so I decided to write about that. I decided to write about my 2017 life.

Life ebbs and flows. Business ebbs and flows. Eating healthy and working out ebb and flow. It’s a constant. It’s not any different than it has ever been with anybody. It’s the way of the world. Some ebbs are lower than others. Some flows last longer than others. All in all, that’s what happens in our lives though.

I had some things fade away that needed to fade away. I had some things fade away that I don’t know the reason why yet. I had a lot of progress in 2017, and a lot of good movement.

I learned a lot about myself. I worked really hard this year. I launched an online training business and worked hard to learn the ins and outs of all things related to it. I learned I could do it. It was hard as hell, but I persevered and did it. I built my own website and sent out weekly emails to a list I set up and created. I released training programs and sent out a lot of free content to my list. I also put together a Women’s Retreat, Body Image Without Prejudice, this past fall which was really fun and eye-opening. I believe women shouldn’t have to worry about how they look. I feel like we shouldn’t be told how to look. It is a super important issue for me. It is a passion of mine.

I wrote 65 blog posts. My goal was to write one every single week. I did that and more. My writing style is my own. I don’t try to copy anyone else. The words land on the paper the way I would say them if you were talking to me in person. It’s how I am. I feel I am real. I feel I am honest and kind and authentic. I don’t like fake and I don’t do fake.

I became a certified nutrition coach through Precision Nutrition. It is a habit-based nutrition program. Level 2 was a year long study. So was Level 1, which I finished in 2016. I also am working on a few other certifications. One is strictly geared toward women, specifically pre and post pregnant women. It is so interesting. It is just taking longer than I wish. I am also working on an online trainer certification, which is also going slow.

This year I learned that stress has definitely affected my health. I presume 6 plus years of 12 plus hours a day tends to catch up with a person. I wasn’t eating right, I was drinking too much wine and I was definitely not getting enough sleep. I have corrected those things and feel much better now. My body has been out of balance, huge ebb, and is now heading toward the flow. I am starting to feel more “normal.” I am progressing.

I have done a lot of forgiving this year and it has freed a lot of energy and creativity for me. I have let go of a lot of things from my past. I can’t control them and I won’t let them control me. It feels great.

I learned that I can do whatever I want to do. I learned to not hold back and to just go for it. I didn’t want to look back and wonder. I just didn’t.

Heading into 2018, my goals are simple. I don’t do resolutions. I do real. I do realistic. I want to continue to grow my business. I am going to be launching some exciting programs in studio. I want to read more. I want to finish up the projects I have going on now. I want to finish up the certifications I am enjoying right now. I want to finish what I started.

The Favorite Christmas Ornament

The favorite Christmas ornament.

There is always one. There is. It’s the favorite Christmas ornament. The one that means the most to you. The one that brings back all the memories of the person who gave it to you. The one that is sentimental, special and pretty all at the same time.

My favorite is one my grandma made. We got them from her when we were little kids. I remember they came in a skinny white box with tissue paper. We opened the box and there were four yarn angels. One for each kid. Two with blue eyes and two with brown eyes, like us. Handmade. Handmade with love. The grandma kind of love. The special love. They were made of white yarn and the eyes were a stitch of colored thread. Blue for me. My eyes are blue. This ornament has been with me since she gave them to us. I think I have had it for over 40 years. It is my favorite ornament. I have to find it every year. It goes on the tree every year. Ummmm, but I can’t find it this year. I have no idea what happened to it. I believe it is here somewhere. I just can’t locate it this year.

We have an attic that holds all the Christmas stuff and other storage items. I don’t go in it. It is like you’re going into the Upside Down. Not even kidding. It is inside the closet of one of the upstairs bedrooms. It has a short little door, which is super creepy anyway, and is freezing cold in there. I made John go look for the angel. When he was crouched over going through the door it completely creeped me out. He looked like a giant going into the small world. I had the urge to slam the door shut. I refrained. You’re welcome John. It was disturbing. Watchers of Stranger Things will know what I’m talking about when I talk about the upside down.

He said he looked in all the boxes and still couldn’t find the angel. I was tempted to go in and do the real look. Because, let’s face it, he probably missed some boxes. I couldn’t force myself to do it though. It makes me sad he couldn’t find it. I still think it has to be there somewhere.

I remember my grandma well. Her name was Esther Elnore Anglin. She had the most soft-spoken voice. She wore glasses and was not a very big lady. I always remember her with white hair or blue hair, as some people describe the grandmas.

She lived in a trailer house in Vermillion, when we were little. We visited her quite often. So many memories of her then. I have written about her before. The experiences at the trailer. The mustard seed necklace was one particular post. That still makes me sad to think about that. Here is the link if you want to read that one.

Grandma visited us a lot. The Euclid house, the Central house, the Prospect house, and then at the golf course house. The golf course house was the last house my parents lived in before Dad died.

Another tradition, and one I have not been able to replicate, was Grandma’s sugar cookies. The melt-in-your-mouth kind of cookies. The perfect cirlce. She didn’t use cookie cutters either. One just like the other, none out of place. The perfect color, not too light, not too dark, just right. They tasted amazing. They were my favorite cookie she made. They were perfect cookies. No uneven or cracked edges ever. I have the recipe and have tried numerous times to make them. They don’t taste the same and they don’t look the same as Grandma’s. I follow the recipe exactly and they still don’t turn out.

Grandma also used to make the Danish pancakes or ebelskiver. Round pancakes. Delicious pancakes. I also tried to replicate these and did a pretty good job. You need to use a special pan, an ebelskiver pan because you have to flip the ball halfway through cooking, just like normal pancakes, except there were round balls. You could flip them using a knitting needle or a skewer. Then they were doused with butter and sugar and eaten as fast as they were cooked. You could put syrup on them as well, but I don’t like syrup so I just used butter and sugar.

When she would come and visit the Euclid house she always brought long johns and colored peppers. I have no idea why we got that combination. The peppers were always giant and so fresh, crispy and crunchy. The long johns were from the bakery in Vermillion, I believe. Nobody makes long johns like that anymore.

Grandma had great manners too. She was staying at my and John’s house. It may have been after dad died. I’m not sure. I made a big batch of chicken noodle soup. Instead of telling me she didn’t like carrots, she just politely moved them to the side of the bowl and never said a word. I always found that so interesting and polite. I never knew she didn’t like carrots.

When Grandma moved from Vermillion, she lived in Viborg. She baked all the time and was known as the cookie lady. All the church functions. All the Grandma cookies. Many different varieties. Always delicious. She also made fudge and divinity. Ever tried making divinity? It is messy. Yeah, I tried that too. Once.

Grandmas make everything special. Things taste different when grandmas make them. They just do. Maybe it’s the years of experience making it. Maybe it’s the special grandma touch. Maybe it’s the grandma love. Whatever it is though, it cannot be replicated. It cannot be copied. It’s grandma special.

Grandma died on September 11 in 2002. Peacefully in her chair, with her cup of coffee and book by her side.

(the picture is an ornament that is similar to the one grandma gave me. Similar, yet different)

It was a life day…

Last week I was on the road early. It was Friday. December. I was out of town by 7 a.m. It’s interesting when I travel I am constantly scouring the prairie for deer and other wildlife. If I am out of town before sunrise, I cannot wait to see what the sunrise is going to look like. When I head west, I can check it in my rearview mirror and then once I turn the corner from Hayes, toward Midland, I catch it to my left. On this day, it was absolutely beautiful. The colors were amazing. Different shades of many colors. There were deep oranges, and pretty pinks, blues and whites. It was so energetic, colorful and vibrant. It was so peaceful and alive. I was pretty much the only car on the road at that time. I like it like that. I like to drive alone and experience the beauty of nature.

The highlight of the trip west was the sunrise. On the way back was a different story. I have never seen so many captivating and mesmerizing things in such a short period of time. This all happened in less than ten minutes. It was strange, and goosebumpy, and weird, and meaningful. I believe it meant something. I believe it was a message to me. I believe in the symbolism of things. I believe things happen for a reason. I just do.

As I was driving and listening to a podcast about releasing negative energy, I glanced to the right. Something caught by eye. I looked over and swooping towards my car was an amazingly beautiful bald eagle. It flew right up over the top of the car. It was so majestic. It was huge. It was beautiful. I thought, holy crap!

About 20 seconds later to the left was a giant hawk, just hanging out, suspended in the air. I’m not sure what species of hawk it was. Hawks are super prevalent around here. He was really pretty and big. He had so many colors, whites, grays and brown.

Then a few minutes later I could see something on the left again, I looked over to see a deer carcass. The ribs were exposed and red. Standing right on the ribs was a giant golden eagle. Having lunch, no doubt. I have never in my life seen something like that. I looked up pictures of this. Holy crap. If you are at all squeamish do not, I repeat do not, google golden eagle eating deer. I’m serious.

All the while I am driving I can’t stop thinking about these weird sightings. Coincidence? I don’t know. Messages? I think so.

I couldn’t stop thinking. I made the turn to Hayes and back to Pierre. I was driving for a few more minutes and noticed something on the side of the road up ahead. It was white. I figured some jerk had thrown out a garbage bag. When I got closer, just sitting there, all white and fuzzy was a snowy owl. So amazing looking. So pretty. I have never seen one. I wanted to do a u-turn right on the highway and go back and try to get a picture of it. When I saw it, I said out loud, “Oh My God!” I can’t even describe how cool it was. I thought about it the rest of the way home.

When I got home, I wanted to find out the meaning of seeing these things. I researched for quite a while. I found some interesting symbolisms. I will go in the order I saw the birds.

First off, the Bald Eagle—When the eagle appears, you are on notice to be courageous and stretch your limits. Reach higher and become more than you believe you are capable of. Be patient with the present. To know that the future holds possibilities you may not yet be able to see and that you are about to take flight.

The Hawk is next—The hawk puts you on notice that even the most ordinary circumstances could have deeper meanings. Because of the hawk having the sharpest eyesight of all the raptors, it signifies that you should pause and pay attention to everything.

The Golden Eagle – When the eagle appears to you it is a sign of an end and a new beginning, not necessarily means that someone will die. It can be a form of saying so long to the old phase of your life and starting anew. You have the ability to triumph over tough challenges in life. You see these hardships as a chance to grow and emerge a better person. Conserve resources and work smarter, not harder.

Snowy Owl – The owl is synonymous with the gift of higher knowledge and insight. The owl is also a symbol for wisdom. Where others are deceived, the owl sees and knows. The owl is also a guide to uncover your hidden potential and abilities. Focus on your creative energy. Seeing the big picture and the power of silence.

So, super interesting. Every single description of these amazing creatures means something to me. I can see myself in it all. It all pertains to what I have been experiencing in my life. It was a good day. It was an educational day. It was a life day.


Holiday Hard

Today is National Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day, also referred to as Pearl Harbor Day, December 7th. This day is observed annually in the United States to remember and honor the 2,403 citizens of the United States who were killed in the Japanese surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii on December 7, 1941. Today is also Sandy’s birthday. It was always easy for me to remember her birthday because of Pearl Harbor Day. Today she would have been 65. Several months ago I wrote about her. If you want to read that post, here is the link.

I have been feeling weird lately. Weird as in my thinking has not being clear. It has been cloudy. It has been odd. It has been fuzzy. It has been hard to focus. It has been hard to concentrate on things. I have been feeling stifled.

Every single year around the holidays this happens. I should pick up on it by now. I should be able to figure it out. I should know why. But every single year, I go through the cloudy. I go through the odd. I go through the fuzzy. Maybe a slight depression with winter settling in. Or maybe just holiday hard.

Something always triggers it. Something reminds me. Something brings it all back. The missing. The love. The hard. The holiday hard. We miss people differently, yet the same. We love people differently, yet the same. The holidays are always hard when loved ones are gone. The holidays make us miss people harder.

The trigger today was a song. Songs are always a trigger for me. The song today made me miss my dad. The song today made me miss Sandy. It’s funny that I would miss them both today because of this song. The group is Tabitha’s Secret, Rob Thomas before Matchbox Twenty. The song was Dizzy. I have it rolling around on a few Spotify playlists and today it made an appearance. A timely appearance. An appearance that made me realize why I have been feeling cloudy and odd and fuzzy and holiday hard. I think it is a way so I don’t forget. So I always remember the fun times. So I always remember the good times. So I always remember the hard times. So I always remember.

I remember after Dad had died, Sandy was there for me. She was so there for me. She was so supportive and so kind. A true friend. I remember playing these songs for her. I remember her telling me how much she liked them. There were several by Tabitha’s Secret. Forever December and Here Comes Horses are two favorites. I rarely can listen to them without tearing up. Without thinking of her and Dad. Isn’t it funny how songs do that to us. Very cliche’, but the song takes you right back to where you were, as if listening to it in that very moment. The sad moment. The missing moment. The hard moment.

It’s hard to believe that Sandy has been gone almost 15 years. It’s hard to believe that Dad has been gone over 17 years.

Happy Birthday Sandy – Enjoy that bottle of Scotch.

you can’t see what those shades of gray keep covered

This week I was trying to think of something to write about. Most times, things are just right there. This week was a little bit different for some reason. My thoughts have not been clear. They have been super jumbled together and fuzzy. I have been having a problem with the clearness of my thoughts. The clarity of my thoughts. Maybe it’s the holidays. Maybe it’s just so much stuff going on. Maybe it’s just the way I am this week.

I decided I wanted to tell you about an issue that I feel is very important. It’s important to me, not only because I have a stake in it, but also because these people I am going to write about deserve better. They deserve to be taken care of in a way that is better than what is available now. They deserve it.

Today I am writing about Veterans. At the beginning of November, I ran a Facebook group challenge. It was 22 days. I started November 1, and ended November 22. It didn’t really end though, for me anyway. It is an ongoing cause for me. It’s an important cause for me.

The challenge was about bringing awareness to Veteran suicide. Specifically Mission 22. Did you know that yesterday over 20 Veterans were lost to suicide? According to the website “that makes the war at home more dangerous than all of our combat missions around the world. Let’s end the stigma surrounding Post Traumatic Stress and Traumatic Brain Injury. Let’s end the silence. Lets save our veterans.”

Our soldiers leave as kids and come back with the innocence lost. They come back different. They come back broken. Maybe not physically, but for sure mentally. There is no way they cannot be affected by what they see overseas.

Four of my family members were affected. They were kids then. My son, Spencer, was affected. My nephew, Dustin, was affected. My nephew, Dusty, was affected. My nephew, Cole, was affected. Two Marines, infantry and a sniper and Two Army Rangers. Thank God they all came back physically in tact. I know they were affected mentally. The thing is we don’t see. We don’t know. We weren’t there. Things changed for them. Things didn’t stay the same. Things were different when they came back. Things will never be the same for them. They lost friends. They saw things no kid should ever see. But, you know what. These four boys were the most patriotic kids. They served their country proud. They did their time. They wrote the blank check. They gave to their country. They sacrificed for their country. Red, White and Blue. I thank them for that.

Taken from the Mission22 website:

“Mission 22 currently has two treatment programs that focus on traumatic brain injury and post traumatic stress. The goal is not to medicate and mask the problem our Veterans are facing but to heal them. The creation of these Mission 22 healing projects will allow us to support even more Veterans through ground breaking treatments.


Hundreds of Veterans are helped with this Treatment Protocol! Mission 22 has partnered with Fayetteville Hyperbarics LLC to create an intensive 5-8 week program to treat Traumatic Brain Injuries and Post Traumatic Stress. 

More than 350 Veterans have reclaimed their lives by pursuing a treatment protocol which includes Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy (HBOT). The most effective results are experienced through enlightened clinics offering unique, collaborative regimens. 
In Louisiana, Dr. Paul Harch treats Veterans with TBI and PTSD using HBOT. In Colorado, The Miracle Workers of South Boulder Road do the same while adding counseling and a physical training element. The cost for this program is $6,450 for one veteran. This covers the entire 5-8 week intensive program. Mission 22 covers this cost 100% and there are no charges to veterans seeking treatment. 

Full Spectrum Health and Mission 22 have developed a personalized, whole person approach to healing veterans. PTS is not in your head and it’s not just a brain disorder. It involves physical, mental and emotional interactions. Endobiogeny focuses on the whole person as the point of treatment, not just symptoms. This means we treat the person at the level of body, emotions and mind. We allow the patient to tell their story. This is a profound process that brings a level of healing before the doctor has spoken a single word.  Finally, we have a powerful method of analyzing blood work to uncover hidden imbalances at body, emotional and mental levels. Because of the power of our testing system, called the Biology of Functions, the entire visit and treatment can be performed remotely. All appointments can be via video conference with the doctor and labs are done where the veteran lives. The patient can take their treatments from home while they continue to live with their family and engage in their daily responsibilities. Mission 22 has huge success and life changing results with veterans that have completed this program. Please click here to learn more about this program. This program costs on average $1,800 for the first six months with most veterans remaining in the program for one to one and a half years. Mission 22 covers this cost 100% and there are no charges to veterans seeking treatment.” 
During the Facebook 22 Challenge, we sent $690 to Mission 22 to help the fight. To help bring awareness to Veteran Suicide. To help our Veterans who are struggling. You can also donate on the Mission22 website. No Veteran should be left to die. No Veteran should feel suicide is their only choice. They deserve better. They deserve to receive help. They deserve it.

This holiday season, if you know of any Veterans who will be alone on Christmas, reach out to them. Invite them to dinner. Spend some time with them. Talk to them. Listen to them. Be there for them. They were there for us. They gave for us. Red, White and Blue.

Christmas Tree – 2017

Every year around this time we get the Christmas tree. Every year around this time we wonder why it is so big. Every year around this time we struggle getting it into the house. Today was no different. Today is Sunday, December 3, 2017. This is kind of early for our tree. It seems like we procrastinate and are lucky if we get one a week and a half before Christmas. Apparently, we are on the ball this year. In years past, we have had ridiculously tall trees. I guess 12 feet sounded short to John.

The tree had been hanging around outside for the past few days. You know, just chilling and dropping branches. John went and picked it out himself. He was excited, as it was a 12 foot tree. Shorter than last year. It’s funny how at the tree shopping place they all look so short. Until you get it in the house.

John said he cut at least a foot off the top and about a foot off the bottom too. I can’t imagine what it would have looked like if he hadn’t. The tree is beautiful, and heavy, and wide. Did I mention it is heavy?

I heard the doorbell ring and the dogs of course went crazy, barking and running to the door. I opened it and it was John. He told me he needed me to help with the tree. Oh fun, I thought. That’s not really what I thought, but I’ll leave it at that. The tree was at the bottom of the steps already in the stand. Our steps consist of 4 or 5 steps, a landing and 3 or 4 more steps. We don’t use the front door a lot, so I don’t know exactly how many steps are in each section. I was looking at the tree from the top of the steps. It looked big, and heavy.

John picked it up to move it and it tipped over and he just about fell trying not to fall. Of course I laughed. He started swearing. He got the tree back up and told me I would have to help him carry it in. The tree is big, and heavy.

He was complaining how he couldn’t really step up the steps with the tree because of his legs. In the past he had injured both legs and ankles. Not to mention the fact he is getting old. His words, not mine. So, I was summoned to help. He was going to hold the bottom and I was to hold the top part and we would bring it in. I grabbed my end and we started lifting it and I started to trip backwards up the steps because it’s hard to walk up the steps backwards whilst holding onto something, as the something you are holding onto gets lower the higher you go. We were almost to the top and then John realized we can’t take the tree in top first because it won’t fit in the door that way. If we did it that way, we would have stripped the branches and had a Charlie Brown tree. Joy.

So we have to turn it around and start over. Now I am at the bottom of the steps and John is on the landing. We picked it up and started hauling. It is really heavy and awkward. The further we got in the door, the more the tree is coming down on my head. At least it is fresh and the needles don’t feel like real needles, like they do at the end of Christmas. We survived the steps. The tree is in the house. We get it standing up and we are laughing so hard because my hair is completely flattened on my head by the tree and I can’t even see because my hair is completely covering my eyes.

But guess what? We still need to get it on the plastic bag that it will go into at the end of Christmas. That means we get to lift it again and place it on the bag, in the center of the bag. John showed me where he wanted it to be. He said he would lift it and I could tell him where to put it. Yeah, you probably know what I’m thinking. Haha.

Here we go again. John lifted the tree up and started moving it back towards the plastic bag to the landing spot where he wanted it. I told him to keep going. Again, keep going. Then it was, okay, stop. He set it down and now I was trapped behind the tree against the wall. I had to squat down and crawl out underneath the tree. I am sure it was quite a sight watching us bringing in the tree and placing it. Of course, Tayler was nowhere to be found to help us. Typical teenager, when you need help, they disappear.

Every year around this time, we get the Christmas tree. Every year the tree is too big. Every year we say we are getting a smaller tree next year. Today was no different. Every year we laugh at each other when we are getting the tree in the house. I am so grateful that after almost 20 years of marriage, we can still laugh with each other and have fun.

Now, just like every year before, we will try to remember what color lights we put on the tree last year. We change the lights every year and we struggle to remember the color, every year.

The tree is beautiful, and heavy.

30 minutes with “The Chestee” sports bra

It was Friday. It was the first day of December. The now.

I was planning on going to the play Calendar Girls with a couple of girlfriends, after dinner and drinks. We wanted to support a friend of ours who was in the play.

My day was going great. I had a facial earlier in the day and then was home cleaning and writing. As you know, if you read a few blog posts ago, I am struggling with pullups. I had a good training session today though. The pull-ups hurt my forearm, but the chinups were feeling great. I felt accomplished.

I was relaxing for a while before I needed to take a shower and go meet Cara and Laura. I had a glass of wine and just felt chill.

I was going to wear a sweatshirt that has a bunch of holes in it and part of the neck cut out, because I like stuff like that, and don’t really care if anyone else does. It’s my style. It had ME cut out all over it.

I went upstairs to take a shower and noticed the very cool Chestee sports bra that I bought on Black Friday. The Lulu. You know the company is serious when they name all their sports bras. I thought it would look good with the sweatshirt. The bras are geared towards women and lifting. Specifically padding up near the collarbones. Not that I do any of that kind of lifting, but they make them so nice looking that why the hell wouldn’t people buy them. They aren’t cheap, but the quality is excellent. I have a couple other ones that I bought on sale and when I went to order this one, I remember thinking to myself that because it had a different kind of bottom part, maybe I should size up. But I didn’t. First mistake: Always listen to your gut.

I took off the tags and held up the bra. I looked at the bottom part trying to figure out how it goes on. I pulled on it a little bit and thought it seemed a little tight. Not a big concern, because most of these bras fit pretty snugly. So I put the bra on over my head and thought, holy crap, this is tight. I got it down over my boobs feeling the whole time like I just had a mamogram. So damn tight. Second mistake: Never try on sports bras when you are sweaty or having hot flashes.

Okay, so it’s on now and it’s tight, but I think it’s okay. It took at least five minutes to get it on and in place. That should have been a clue for what was to come. Time to take it off so I can take a shower. Well, it is so tight I can’t even begin to get it off. I was thinking what the F? I finally got it up to above the boobs, after the second mammogram of the day. I kept trying but couldn’t get it up any further. I kept thinking, how the hell am I going to get this off? Shit, I’m going to be late. Why isn’t John here? He’s usually home early on Fridays. The dogs sure as shit won’t be able to help me. What am I going to do? Tayler isn’t here either. I’m home alone. All those thoughts are running through my head trying to get this stupid sports bra off. I haven’t moved like that since high school. Pretty sure I invented some new dance moves or some awesome ninja moves. I was trying and trying to get this thing off of me. I reached back over my head and grabbed the straps. I pulled hard. All I heard was seams popping and ripping, but nothing moved. UGH!!! Now I’m getting pissed. I was wondering if I laid down I could somehow get this thing off. Ummmm, bad idea. Writhing and squirming and bouncing, nothing worked.

I’m pissed because this bra was EXPENSIVE and I didn’t want to ruin it. I thought if the seams just popped or stretched a little, it would still be okay. I tugged again. Nothing! I’m stuck. See, I told you the quality was excellent. My thought process here was that because of the pull up program that has been kicking my ass for the last nine weeks it has also made my lats so big that I will never get this bra off. No matter what I did, I could not get the bra over my lats. I tried to shift from side to side to slide it up. No luck. No big break. Not happening. What the hell??? I’m sweaty as fuck now because I have been wrestling with this sports bra for ten minutes with no luck. It doesn’t help that I am having hot flashes the whole time too.

Now its getting serous. By this time, I am going to be late. If I don’t get this bra off in the next few minutes, I am going to be late. I don’t do late. I just don’t. I wrestled with the bra some more. Nothing! I cannot get this thing off. I walk over to the drawer at the bathroom counter. I open it. I look around for the one item that will get this damn bra off me, the scissors. I pick them up and start cutting. The dilemma was killing me. I didn’t want to ruin this bra by having to cut it off me. I have never had to do this before with a sports bra. Why now? Why with one that had to cost so much? Why such a cool looking one?

I cut it. I had to. I had to escape the sports bra. I had to, I had to, KILL it! Bye, bye Chestee so cool sports bra. So sorry we couldn’t live in peace with each other.

Lessons learned: Always listen to your gut and never try on sports bras when you are sweaty or having hot flashes.