Saturday, 17 May 2014
Saturday, 10 May 2014
Wednesday, 21 August 2013
Lycra - where have you been all my life?
Confession time...despite all silent protests, I have, I’m
afraid to say, succumbed to the panic-inducing wonder that is Lycra.
Striking fear into the hearts of novice exercise enthusiasts
everywhere, it has to be one of the few things on my “never to be worn”
list. Or at least, it had been. Until the prospect of a warm June Bank
Holiday Monday became a reality and I was faced with a tough choice.
Three hours traipsing through the streets of Dublin in my
usual run-of-the-mill track bottoms, only to be carried over the 10km mark to
the nearest physio.
Unless, that is, I could bring myself to feel the Lycra fear
and wear it anyway. And feel it I did. So much so, that my new Lycra sports trousers
lingered in their bag for several days, lest they should feel like making a
sudden sprint back to the shop from whence they came.
Bizarrely, they didn’t, and having tried them on for the
umpteenth time, I plucked up the courage in true brave- little-soldier style,
to face the mirror.
I’m not sure there
are enough words in the English language, or indeed any other, to describe the
horror that stood before me. Back in the
bag they went. No sport is worth that torture.
It’ll probably rain anyway, right?
Wrong.
With the forecast remaining positive, there was only one
thing for it. So, with some reassurance
from Lycra-loving friends and a bit of positive(ish) self talk, off I went with
30-something thousand other women in my breathable, go-faster, Lycra sports
trousers.
And my exxxtra long t-shirt. That oughta hide them.
And my exxxtra long t-shirt. That oughta hide them.
"Sure who’s gonna
care anyway... its not a fashion show.. comfort before style..all in the name
of charity..."
Three hours later, much to my own relief, over the finish
line I sauntered in the blazing sunshine. Fresh as a daisy. Full of the joys of Spring. Not a bother on me.
Okay okay, I exaggerate... but to my relief (or disgust??) the
discomfort levels were noticeably lowered a few notches thanks to my trusty new
friends.
Actually friendship may be too strong a word, lets not get
too hasty here. But whether I like it or
not, this pre-marathon marathon served to prove me wrong in my long-held
anti-Lycra beliefs.
Sometimes, (in exceptional circumstances such as these) it IS
okay, if not wise, to put comfort first.
Image credit www.dunnestores.com
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Ah, the good ol' days
Pigtails secured with baby pink ribbons. Brown leather cross-body handbag. Multiple pastel pink beaded necklaces. All to complement a lemon jumper and brown trousers
complete with an ice-cream pocket motif – lemon and strawberry, naturally.
Can you picture it yet?
I guess this is where my journey started, and I have my ever
stylish mother to thank for setting me off on my colour co-ordinated path.
Let me clarify - there is one small component to this outfit
that I’ve omitted so far – the dreaded leg braces. Or calipers to those in the know. With their hideous brown laced-up boots
attached.
You see, the pastel-hued outfit was a
well-planned distraction conjured up by aforementioned stylish mum to prevent another
five-year-old tantrum at the prospect of even one more day in these
less-than-stylish contraptions.
And you know what? It kinda worked! Well, it reduced the frequency
of the tantrums anyway. Still didn’t stop me pining for the latest
magic shoes – you know the ones, white, with the secret lock and key – and any
other fashion fads that came along, but what I lacked in shoes I more than made
up for with handbags. No change there
then.
Moving on a few years, ahem, and I still get comments from
the physiotherapists on my colour combinations (more often than not featuring
pink or purple, or both). Only now, I’ve
branched out a bit and broadened my range of accessories to include crutches. Purple, of course. I've yet to choose the
most versatile shade of pink for my current wardrobe.
Ok, so you’d be correct in thinking that life with a
disability surely has more pressing issues than the inability to wear a
platform heel with crutches, but there’s a lot to be said for that boost one gets from
a new image, be it an updated outfit, hairstyle, or accessory. And we’re all entitled to feel good about
ourselves, don’t you think?
So, from those early days of caliper cover-ups, began a
lifetime attempt to embrace fashion while accepting disability. No easy task at the best of times, with many
mistakes along the way, but sure nobody gets it right all the time...
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