Sporty tampons: for serious athletes only

There I was, standing in the feminine-product aisle at the grocery store, faced with a serious dilemma. My stand-by brand was out of stock, and I knew that the longer I stood there mulling over which box to buy instead, the greater the chance that I would be spotted by an acquaintance and forced to engage in an awkward conversation in front of the tampon shelf.

I just wanted to hurry up and pick one so I could go find six other random items (because you can't just buy a box of tampons by itself) and get the heck out of there.

Finally, I decided that if I was going to stray from my go-to girly products, I might as well get a bargain. That’s how I ended up with these:

Although I’ve been an athlete for most of my life, I’ve never really been a fan of the “sporty” version of things that aren’t inherently sporty. To me, it seems like a half-assed marketing tactic meant to trick people into feeling more athletic than they actually are. In my experience, most real athletes feel the same way. (Come on, do you really want to fuel your workout with an energy bar made by Snickers?)

But the truth is, whether you’re aware of it or not, if you are a young to middle-aged female who exercises on a regular basis, you’re part of a growing consumer base that is becoming increasingly attractive to business marketers.

Think about it: how many fashion retailers have added fitness apparel to their brands in the last ten years? It started innocently enough, with a few tank tops here and some stretch capris there. Now, it seems like every time I walk into the Gap, the active wear section has added another shelf of yoga pants and two more racks of tech shirts. It’s like the Canada of clothing sections—innocently disguised as unthreatening hoodies and spandex shorts, but slowly taking over the world! Pretty soon, they won’t even sell jeans anymore.

But back to tampons. Adding sportswear to a women’s clothing line is one thing. Adding the word “sports” to a box of otherwise ordinary feminine products is another.

Are “sporty” tampons going to make me run any faster? Are they going to make me more limber and agile? Probably not. So, assuming they are not laced with steroids or prescription painkillers, what athletic advantage do they provide?

In a word, inspiration. Yes, you read that correctly. Put down that raised eyebrow and allow me to explain.

You see, each time you reach into the box, you’re not just picking up a tampon. You’re picking up a tiny package of encouragement.

When I pulled out the first one, I nearly collapsed with laughter. Printed on the wrapper, right next to the big S, were the words, Strive to do your best.

Here's the visual evidence because I knew that without it, you'd never believe me.

Hilarity quickly gave way to anger as I thought, You have to be kidding me. Decades of progress in the equality of women’s sports, and this is what it has come to?

I felt a hormone-fueled feminist rant coming on. In the interest of preserving my dignity, I preemptively employed my failsafe mood-correction strategy: sarcasm. (See title of this blog post.)

My best? I thought, rolling my eyes at that stupid little tube of cotton. I’m bloated, I feel like crap and my body is literally bleeding—but don’t worry, I’ll be sure to leave it all on the roads today.

Look, I’m not judging anyone who, whether they admit it or not, gets a little confidence boost from inspirational tampon quotes. I’m just saying that Kara Goucher probably doesn’t get her sports bras at the Gap, and Shalane Flanagan probably doesn’t owe her Olympic Trials marathon record to motivational Playtex wrappers.

No bra? Faux pas!

I really thought I’d seen it all.

I have worked out at various indoor fitness facilities for close to a decade now, and when it comes to gym clientele, nothing really surprises me anymore.

I’ve seen people sweat it out in jeans, button-up flannels, suede loafers, turtlenecks, khakis, denim cut-offs, turbans, Christmas sweaters—you name it. If someone were to hop on the elliptical next to mine in a pair of footie pajamas, I probably wouldn’t bat an eye.

For a long time, I considered such “unconventional” exercisers as inferior to those of us donning normal workout apparel like gym shorts and t-shirts.

Then I met people—most of whom fell under the previously discussed Longwinded Techy category—who lambasted me for my own clothing choices, including my extensive collection of Gildan 100% cotton t-shirts.

“Oh man, you’ve gotta get yourself some Under Armour heat gear. You’ll never wear cotton again,” they would tell me. Well guess what? I like cotton. I like the way it looks. I like the way it feels. I like the way it washes up. And I think there is a reason that cotton, not segmented polyurethane, is advertised as “the fabric of our lives.”

And so, gradually, I adopted a more forgiving attitude toward exercisers with eccentric gym wardrobes.

What I saw today, however, was utterly unforgivable. No pun intended. Well, you probably wouldn’t understand the pun yet anyway, but you will in a minute.

I was cruising along on the elliptical, watching the Harlem Globetrotters on ESPN2 and minding my own business. The Trotters were performing all sorts of amazing tricks, but when a flash of red diverted my attention from the bouncing basketballs on my TV screen to the running track that circles the cardio area, I fixed my eyes on another set of bouncing spheres.

The jogger on the track—a woman in her mid-40s or 50s—was decked out in red running gear, from the shoelaces on her training flats to the moisture-wicking fabric of her fitted shirt. It was what she wasn’t wearing that was so horrifying.

If she was trying to make a feminist statement, it definitely wasn’t working. I get it—bras are uncomfortable, and we as women must free ourselves from the social expectation to bind our bodies under layers of mesh and underwire.

While that argument might apply to women in non-exercise settings, I simply cannot accept it as a logical line of reasoning when it comes to women who jog. Today, I witnessed the effects of running braless, and even the most eloquent defense attorney could not convince me, beyond a reasonable doubt, that this woman was more comfortable sans support.

So, if you are a woman who is considering pulling a stunt like this, please consider the following points:

1.) Sports bras are made to be comfortable—so comfortable, in fact, that you might forget you are even wearing a bra.

2.) This does not mean that you should actually forget to wear a bra.

3.) There are two things in this world you don’t mess with: Texas and gravity.

4.) Some things cannot be unseen. Have some respect for your fellow exercisers.

And if you really must go braless, I would advise you to, at the very least, invest in some nipple guards.