Just Another Day at the Gym

This story may or may not be true.

Prerequisite to reading: Women who have bore children must stop right now, and go potty.  Then come back RIGHT AWAY to read this...don't get distracted and do something else. Come back immediately!

I like to get the most out of my possessions.  I will wear my shoes until they just cannot be worn anymore.  I have shirts from ten years ago.  If something works perfectly fine, I don't replace it just because a new one would look nicer.  You just need to know this about me.

A couple of years ago I had this workout bra that was a little faded, but it was functional.  The elastic on it was not as tight as some of my newer workout bras, but it stayed in place when I moved around, so it was just fine with me.  As a matter of fact, I often wore it simply because it was so soft and comfy.  Now, I am a modest woman (most of the time....I have another story that would dispute this_ maybe you will get it later down the road) and I don't work out in just a sports bra.  I always wear another top over it, but I hate to work out in a  
T-shirt, so the top is usually a tank of some sort.

I also have this thin, soft, bright pink top with spaghetti straps.  I usually use it for a night shirt, or just housecleaning, but this particular day, I thought it would suffice as a work-out top, to be worn over the navy blue worn out sports bra.  Hot pink and navy blue do go nicely together at the gym.  As it turns out, this was a deadly combination.

The group exercise room is pretty big. Two of its walls are mirrored, top to bottom, they are perpendicular to each other.  A third wall is all glass, looking over the lower level of the gym, and the fourth wall is also glass, with the cardio machines on the other side.  The gym is just like church.  Everybody has their "spot". Mine was in the back of the room, in the corner where one of the mirrored walls and the windows overlooking the lower level met.  I figured this was the safest place to participate with the least number of people watching me. Fortunately for me, on this day I had arrived early enough to snag my usual spot.

Everyone in the class had their benches assembled and we were moving into the chest press.  Our benches were all set up so that when we were lying down, our feet were towards the mirrored wall that I was next to, so during this exercise I was actually at the front of the group, and the instructor was to our left. I hope you have a really good visual here....  I'm at the front of the room, wearing my soft, comfy, worn sports bra AND soft, comfy worn pink shirt.

For this lift, we put our mat on our bench, and lie down.  We do 4 sets of 12 reps with our bar loaded up.  I was really working hard, and was very sweaty!  Some women say they "glow".  Not me, I am a downright mess!  No makeup on, hair in a ponytail, red-faced, and sweat pouring down my face, and dripping off my elbows.  It's not pretty. 

We finish the set, and I have sweat pooling in my eyes.  I know from past experience that when I open my eyes, the sweat is going to burn!  I decided to go ahead and wipe my eyes before opening them, so as I sat up, I grabbed the pink top and wiped my eyes.  Nothing seemed unusual.  Nothing felt odd.  The shirt just pulled up and I wiped my eyes. 
It wasn't until I opened my eyes that I realized something WAS unusual.  Something WAS odd.  Even more than that, something was TERRIBLY WRONG!

You see, my soft, comfy sports bra, and my soft, comfy pink shirt felt the same to me with my eyes closed.  As I pulled up on the neck of my pink shirt, I was actually pulling up on my sports bra, and what happened was something I'd expect to see in some juvenile T&A movie that I would NEVER pay money to go see. 
Yes, as I opened my eyes, stinging just a bit from the sweat that was already in them, I looked into the mirror I was facing and saw myself sitting there with sports bra in hand, and my right boobie hanging out.  Not just a little bit, but COMPLETELY out. It was almost as if the bottom of my sports bra and the top of my pink shirt framed my boob perfectly.

I stared at myself for just a moment, and then noticed the young lady beside me.  She looked about 20-ish, and I had never seen her there before.  I think she was home from college, and had come to the gym with her mother.  As you can imagine, her body was perfect! Her bosom had never nursed two children, and the look on her face was pure shock!
I smiled at her, tucked my mushy boob back in place, and said "I'm so sorry you had to see that." and went on with my workout. I burst into random laughing throughout the rest of the class, and afterwards explained to the instructor (who was also my friend) what had happened.  She about peed her pants!

I don't really know if anyone else saw me that day, but I do know that young girl is probably scarred for life, and I'm pretty sure she'll be bottle feeding her child.

About 2 years have passed since that happened, and I am proud to say I am the owner of some VERY tight fitting Nike sports bras.  There is no way in H-E-double toothpicks that I will ever be able to mistake my sports bra for my overshirt ever again!

I repeat, this story may or may not be true.