I walk into the first sports shop.
I want new trainers, swimming cozzy, and sporty trousers.
I found the swimsuits.
They're in foreign.
Size 32?!
I ask a twelve year old shop assistant.
it's a size 12.
I look again.
I find English sizes!
Selection of trainers = shite.
Selection of joggers = shite.
I buy a cheap pair of joggers and two swimming costumes.
I walk ten metres round the corner and enter sports shop number two.
There is a sale.
There are hundreds of trainers.
However...
The models displayed are nowhere to be found.
I look at the models helpfully sat on top of stacks of shoeboxes.
This takes some time.
I choose a pair of trainers.
I then go legging mad.
I also pickup two sporty bra things.
I go to the back of the shop.
And pay.
No hangers are forthcoming.
Best buy: swimsuit A, snug but not uncomfortably so, also has pleasing levels of boob support.
Worst buy: first pair of trousers. They're.... French? For cycling?! On the tight side, not returning as they may actually be wearable once I've lost some weight.
Both sporty bra things aren't perfect, one is too tight the other too loose.
And yes everything I bought was the 'right' size. 
Methinks any gym activity will see me wearing swimsuit under t-shirt and leggings B (the most expensive), so I can then pop to the pool afterwards and wear a normal bra home.
Oh, hadn't I mentioned?
The day before I got sacked I payed for a year's gym membership.
