January 2011 I decided that it was time for the s-word. Me running up two winding staircases and walking elegant to my desk chair after, that was part of my past. Should I start to do some fitness? No way. One day someone forgot to turn off the treadmill and I stepped on it and fell. My knees were bleeding, but the worst part was that my image was ruined. Unnecessary to tell you that I never stepped into that gym again.
Okay, I had to pick another sport. Golf perhaps? I am sorry, but that would not give me much pleasure. Hockey? No, I could end up looking like a toothless witch. Tennis? I love love tennis, but since I have zero stamina that would be a disaster. Soccer? Hell no. I HATE SOCCER!!! When I think of a soccer player I automatically think of an overpaid, lot’s of beer consuming and pampered person. Someone who thinks that the world revolves around him and that playing soccer is as important as breathing.
So running it is. The wind is blowing through my hair, it is the way to clear my mind, and I can run whenever and wherever I want. Freedom with a capital F. I am not the only one who loves this freedom, my babies enjoy it also. One has a bouncing doggy on the dashboard, I have two bouncing babies on my body. Even though all women have breast, they all come in different sizes. Let’s just say that I, as a January baby, was standing first in line. That is right ladies. If you are from 1985 and angry that you only received some left overs, I am the one to blame!
Of course I bought my babies a high tech sport crib to keep them safe. It does not matter how high tech it is, they always find a little space to bounce to the rhythm of my music. That is why I went undercover. The minute it became dark outside, I went for a run on the dike in Gossip City. Besides some ducks and one runner or perhaps two, there was no one out there. Loved it! During summer it became dark after 10 p.m., that was when I decided to take my babies into the light.
Still I love running. I run about four times a week. Not only did I gain stamina, my body is getting leaner also. On each side fits a Milner cheese (meaning: my waist is back!). Today I am wearing my red running clothes. My babies are strapped up by my new shock absorbing bra. Some male teenagers are passing me by, making sounds to the rhythm of my bouncing babies. (Can’t touch this boys! Keep on dreaming.) Today I do not care. I just set a new PR, I feel like I am on top of the world.
Two boys around the age of ten, are passing me by. They look at me and whisper to each other.
“Madam, can we ask you something?”
I know exactly what they are going to ask me.
“Why are your breasts bouncing during your run?”
But their question is bolder.
“Are you on the soccer team?”
“What?” My eyes are popping out of their sockets.
“They wear exact the same pants.”
Me, a soccer player??? I immediately think of an overpaid, lot’s of rose beer consuming and pampered girl. Someone who thinks that the world revolves around her and that playing soccer is as important as breathing. And I thought that the bouncing babies where my biggest problem!