It’s not that I’ve been worried about crapping my pants… (although I suppose that could be a legitimate concern)… it’s that I’ve had 3 doctor visits in the last 14 days and all of them have been iffy as to whether or not I’d be asked to remove my clothing from the waist down. The first visit, I kept my capris up, on and buttoned. (Victory!) The second, I was asked to push them down to my knees while the uncovered part of my cheekies froze to the x-ray table. (Epic fail) The third, I wised up and wore spandex which = pants on.
The fourth, which is an MRI later today, will be anybody’s guess.
So, can we talk about underwear for a second?
I grew up olddddddddd-school. There was no Victoria’s Secret in my hometown. No cute little lingerie shops where teenagers were welcome. My Mom wore sheer nude under pants that covered her belly button, the small of her back and everything in between which means I grew up knowing nothing of thongs, boy shorts, French cut, high cut, high leg, hipsters, bikini’s, etc. All I knew was plain, ugly, ‘never keep a man in your lifetime’ cotton briefs. (Not knowing any better, that’s what I wore. If that’s what YOU wear, stop reading ‘cause this post will shame you into making a switch.)
Fast forward a few years and I’m 23 years old working my first big corporate job in Kansas City. After getting to know a few of the girls in my department, one of them mustered up the courage to sit me down and have a heart-to-heart about panty lines.
Apparently, they’re a no-no.
She then encouraged me to put my body through what she smartly termed ‘thong boot camp’… 30 days of wearing only small, ride ‘em up, dig ‘em out, won’t ever cover your whole crack whispers of fabric.
So, I did.
And, I’ve been wearing those whispers of fabric ever since.
But here’s what doesn’t mix…
Thongs + doctor visits.
I can’t tell you how many times, literally, my ass has been left hanging out of the back of a cheap white gown.
Too many to count.
And more than my ego can stand.
So now every time I go to the doctor and even THINK they might ask me to remove my pants, I stow a pair of ‘cover your ass’ grandma’s in my purse. It saves me from dying of embarrassment and the medical staff from laughing or passing out. (This is why I’ve been carrying a pair of drawers in my purse – I’m always the strategist and one can never be too sure.)
Anyhoo… I’ve have 3 doctor visits in the last 2 weeks because my hip blew out at mile 9 [during my half Ironman event a few weeks ago] and I’ve been cobbling around on crutches ever since. I haven’t talked much about that day or what happened because there isn’t much to say.
I wanted a 6:15.
I got a 7:01:01.
And somewhere in that window of time I watched my hopes, dreams and the best training cycle I’ve ever had go straight into the toilet.
(More about that later.)
So this week, I’ll continue to fork over a good chunk of my disposable income to doctors and facilities that are out of network. I’ll move though my everyday life at mindful pace because on crutches, that’s top speed. I’ll accept help from others when offered and stay curious + cautious about what comes next.
And I’ll smile on the inside wondering who else in waiting rooms across America has a pair of CYA panties in their purse.
P.S. I sincerely hope my Mom isn’t offended I shared her go-to type of underwear. Haha! I sincerely hope you’re not offended knowing mine.
P.S.S. If you have a big goal this fall (marathon, half, tri, ultra, anything goes) and you want to have the BEST training cycle of your life, get in on my Inner Circle here. Not only will you get the accountability and support you need, but you’ll meet tons of fun, super cool women from all over the world – a win/win!
P.S.S.S. I got pulled over for speeding last week. The officer took one look at my crutches (after asking for my license and insurance) and said, “Have a nice day, ma’am.” I think I’ll leave them in the back seat long-term as GET OUT OF JAIL FREE strategy.