There would have been buttage

My Facebook message thingie had a nice surprise for me last week. The famous Rachelle of Tri-it, my favourite triathlon store had told me I'd won. Yay me! I stopped by yesterday to pick it up and found a bunch of Clif stuff and a T shirt. How nice!

Yesterday after my swim I realized I was on the very verge of a catastrophic material failure in my swim suit. Catastrophic, I tell you. Nobody at the pool wants to know what they would have discovered about me.

So while picking up my prize I also tried on a couple swim suits. The 36 didn't even go over my butt. The 38 sort of mostly did, but felt small. Hence the title of today's blog.

On the way to yoga I stopped in at Swimco and started at a 38. Baggy. Which was fine because it made me look at a 36, and those ones had a shark motif on them. They fit perfectly, and well, they have a shark motif on them. How could I not buy?

Which reminds me, I swam yesterday in the lane next to the kids. Swoosh! Shared a lane with the only other swimmer in the 4 public lanes. I'm not sure what the people in other three lanes were doing, but it didn't involve much movement. The two of us swooshed back and forth to some purpose. At one point we were racing the kid next door who was doing cool down, or so I assume. We could almost keep up.

Tough massage. My therapist is very hard working. Then a very painful yoga session. I had a back muscle spasm in the middle, and that was all she wrote. Home. Pills. Body rub.