Tuesday, July 21, 2009


I just completed a weekend-long rock climbing class where I learned how to lead climb, set anchors, and clean routes. It was very physically demanding but worth every minute of exertion, even in 98 degrees. Check out this sick move at Dogwood in Big Cottonwood Canyon.

So I can't/couldn't wait to apply my new skill set when I was asked to play in a pick-up softball game on Sunday night. I was exhausted but went anyway. Mistake #1. It was a lot of fun and I got back in the swing of things (pun intended) but I
was looking forward to the game ending. It was the bottom of the last inning, we had two outs, and I was playing 2nd base. Mistake #2. This large man
stepped up to the plate and hit a grounder that bounced off the pitcher's mound and came in my direction. At first I was excited because this was my chance to end the game. As I bent to scoop it up it hit a divot and struck me on the left side of my right ankle. I stood there for about two seconds before dropping to the ground. It didn't hurt at first, but I knew I was in store for pain. After being carried from the field, some angel produced a cold pack and wrapped my ankle. I drove home and watched as my ankle grew from it's normal size to looking like I had a coke can laying beneath my skin. Jason took me to the ER and the good news is that it's not broken, just severely contused. The very bad news is that I can't climb for a good while nor can I run the 10k on Friday that I just signed up for. Ugh. I find it amusing that I can climb, a rather risky sport, and run without sustaining any major injuries, but can't play a harmless game of softball without being struck down. Check it out:

To add insult to injury, I have a cold now too. Something great better be around the corner because I'm getting really tired of the way things are going right now.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Boobs for Biceps

(On the left, that is me in probably my junior year of high school. Below is SJP's bicep- mine is looking more and more like that everyday)

In high school I was described as the skinny girl with big boobs. As in, "Is it the Jessica with blonde hair, big boobs, a flat butt and really skinny?" Yep, that was me. I was scrawny, bony, and leggy. Any taller and I might have been described as gangly. My senior year of high school I wore a size 0 in jeans and sported a 32D bra. No joke.

To a degree, not much has changed. I can still fit into most of my high school jeans, although most of them are faded and out-dated by current fashion standards. Only now I have traded my prized bosom for some defined biceps and deltoids. Traded makes it sound like this was an agreed upon transaction. But really it's the result of a few intersecting factors: I switched to a vegetarian lifestyle nearly two years ago and became leaner (as if I really had much weight to lose); my appetite was replaced by the stress of school, working, wedding planning, etc.; and the final piece was my new climbing addiction. Put all this together and it looks like a pretty simple math equation. Big boobs divided by excess veggies + stress +physical activity= Biceps

Now I'm not saying that I would exchange my hard earned six pack for a bigger rack, but what am I going to do with the hundreds of dollars worth of bras laying dormant in my dresser drawer?

I am filled with nostalgia when I look at old pictures of me and "the girls"- they're just not the same. Adjusting has been rough. At first I was reluctant to purchase a smaller bra because I figured it would be a waste of money. After all, they are coming back, right? Right!? But I finally gave in a few months into my depleted cup size and purchased your run of the mill V.S. Pink bra- the line reserved for tweens with dreams of womanhood. I have now expanded my collection of baby bras but still sigh sentimentally when I see the pile of neglected brassieres gathering dust.

Boys just don't seem to understand either. At least until you put it to them this way: pretend you were naturally well-endowed and then for reasons beyond your control, three inches just vanished and you couldn't get them back, how would you feel? My hubby understood after looking at it that way. I go back and forth between wanting a boob job and trying to cope. Most of all, I just want my girls back.

It may seem trivial to devote an entire post to my anatomical switcheroo but it's something that has plagued me for a while now. Has anyone else experienced something like this?