My Dearest Sports Bra,

There’s no easy way to say this, but I’ve spent a lot of time thinking. After Sunday’s long run, I finally made a decision: We need to break up.

In hindsight, we’ve both probably known this was coming. Sure, things seemed bright a few years ago. But these days, we’re moving in different directions. (Sometimes literally.)

I wish you knew how much I want to go back to how it was at the beginning. You got me through long runs and short runs, PRs and on-the-path meltdowns. Remember that godforsaken July half marathon? I thought we’d both throw in the towel from the heat. But let’s face it: as we’ve gotten older, we’ve changed and grown apart. (And if I’m really going to be honest with myself, I’m not even sure you were the best fit from the beginning.)

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what I want from a partner. I need more than just support, which I think deep down, you’ll even admit has been lacking lately. I hear friends talking about what a strong and healthy relationship could be: a race that doesn’t end with chafing; straps that don’t show under my favorite t-back singlet; enough coverage up front to keep things from getting awkward on the path; clasps I can reach without dislocating my shoulder; something that actually comes in my size, not one I try and cram the girls into. 

You, on the other hand, seem more interested in doing your own thing. You move up when I move down. You slip when I need you there. And when was the last time that third eye-hook actually functioned? (While I’m at it, what’s with the uniboob? It’s really not a good look for either of us.) 

Maybe I’m asking too much. But in every girl’s life, there comes to a point when you realize you’re forcing things. Then you just know.

You’re tired. Worn down. Saggy. You’re just not that good for me anymore. 

Thanks for the memories.



P.S. We’ll always have yoga.



Sound familiar? Head to either Fleet Feet Chicago location on March 16 or 17 for the Moving Comfort FIT Fest. Get an expert fitting and we’ll help you find the perfect match. (In a sports bra anyway.) 


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