Sweater puppies, knockers, fun bags, tits, boobs, or “the girls”. Whatever you want to call them, I got ’em. I feel lucky to still have all of my original equipment (breasts included), but I have family and friends who aren’t so lucky. They have battled cancer of all kinds and have the scars to prove it.
I no longer know anyone that hasn’t been personally affect by cancer somehow – family, friends, colleagues, classmates, neighbours. Everybody seems to know somebody who’s wrestled with the cell-destroying monster. Sadly, not everyone survives.
Now that I’m approaching 36, the simple, naked confidence of youth is slowly being replaced with the more subtle awareness of my own mortality and that I really like my life. I’m not morbid by nature but I’ve accepted that I’m not invincible anymore and my odds of getting cancer, in one form or another, increases every year.
So, this year I’m hitting two birds with one stone. I need to take better care of myself AND I want to do something, anything, that could help put cancer in its place – the history books. Also, my husband and I rather enjoy my boobs and I’d like to keep them for as long as possible 🙂
As a naturally lazy person with a fondness for wine and junk food, training for a 5K is going to be a sweaty, curse-filled ordeal. I’m carrying an extra 10lbs of flubber (thanks thirties!) and only run when I’m being chased in my dreams or attacked by bees. Doing this run would help me raise money for cancer research and lose some weight. Everybody wins!
If you want to help me save some Sweater Puppies, please donate here: