Originally posted at Blogger in May 2012
As I was pulling out my “running” clothes for this evening’s Terror Trail 4 mile run, I found, in my dresser drawer the very first sports bra I ever bought. After 7 years and about 8 months I still have it. I know that’s a long time to hold on to an old Sports Bra, but I didn’t buy it to wear on some awesome running adventure, causing wear and tear along the way. I bought it because it didn’t contain any metal and I would be wearing it to lay flat on my back, as absolutely still as I possibly could while a huge claustrophobic inducing short tunnel scanned my body from head to mid-thigh to show signs of cancer. If there was cancer it would be marked by the radioactive sugar injected into my body that would do the “running” to the tumor. I must admit that each time I went into that machine I worried about my calves, ankles, feet and toes and wondered, “but what if the cancer is in my toes? You’d be surprised at the thoughts that have gone through my brain.
The whole idea of having to wear a Sports Bra to sit quietly without speaking for 45 minutes allowing the sugar to “run” to a tumor and not any muscle group exerting energy and then to lay still in the machine for an hour more, seems to be quite the oxymoron to me. I think that’s the word I’m looking for. Since that first Sports bra purchase I have bought more sports bras, but these happily have been for the purpose of my body being in motion, running. It may not keep the cancer away. I may always continue to huff and puff and crawl my way to the finish line, but there is some kind of peace being in motion working for the joy of the finish line, than to lay still waiting for the fear of diagnosis.
Today I’m throwing out that old white, boob smashing sports bra, maybe I’ll even burn it and today I’ll put on the purple one, still boob smashing, but so happy to be in motion and not laying still.
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