Photo by Ruth Estelle

Jugs, cups, and…um…breasts.

The article I never thought I’d write

When I was 11 years old I was the fastest sprinter in the school.

By the time I was thirteen, I was the fastest at getting out of sport. Any excuse would do: sore ankle, period, tetchy knee…anything but the truth.

And the truth was? My breasts hurt. And they were growing fast. Running was agony.