Go Suck a Lululemon

I thought exercising was easy until I took my first class. It was a low weights class. C'mon, how much damage can five pounds do? Well, the next morning, I found it so hard to get out of bed, I thought I had a paralyzing stroke sometime in the night.

And yet, almost three years later, I'm still at it.

My body shape has changed and I feel the healthiest I've been in eons. I'm not rail-thin but for a middle-aged mother who had five abdominal surgeries, I'm not a Sherman tank either. And I'm so strong that I can carry all my groceries in the house in one trip.

I take my gym time seriously. I listen (and take) the advice of my very awesome class instructors. I stick to a schedule. I really try to do the right things. And it's work. It's hot, sticky work.

So I asked a gymfriend I'll call Big Boobed Lena who always wears tanks despite, well, her big boobs where I could get supportive tanks. She obviously doesn't wear a bra underneath her tank tops and I'm envious because these D-cups sometimes need to be double-bagged.

"You gotta check out Lululemon. You have to drive into the bigger cities but they have several styles worth checking out. Not cheap but if you're looking for quality stuff with good support, that's the place to go."

Middle Sister, also a bit of a gym rat, has been telling me this for ages. She swears by their capris.

I happened to be at a mall in the Toronto area this weekend and thought I'd check out the store. I found about four tanks that said they were for high impact, so I took some. I went to a sales clerk to ask which of them would suit me best.

"What sort of exercising are you planning on doing?"

"I'm at the gym five or six days a week taking 60 minute classes since 2005. I do high-impact aerobics. Obviously, I will always require a bra for that. But I also do endurance weights and spinning."

Then the little 12-year-old stick figure looks me up and down and has the gaul to say, doubtfully, "No way."

I caught her eye and gave her a sour face.

Handing the merchandise in her hand, I said as politely as I could, "I don't think this is the store for me. That was quite rude."

I really wanted to yell at the kid, "Look, you little mosquito bite-titted girl, let's see how you look in 20 years and after you squished out three human beings. If it wasn't illegal, I'd punch you so hard, your baguette thighs would land in Lake Ontario." I believe I handled it quite maturely.