May 24th, 2006



I am angry at my thighs.

Now, the women of my family carry weight all over, and I have fat everywhere: under my chin, in my cheeks, on my arms, my stomach, my chest -- everywhere. But the fat on my thighs particularly annoys me, because it's that dimpled ripply fat. The fat on my arms may wobble from side to side when I sway them, but at least the skin over it is smooth.

I am especially angry at my thighs because the vast majority of the exercises I do on a daily basis are leg exercises -- usually emphasizing the thigh. If any part of my body should be in shape, it's my thighs. They've got no excuse for looking like the flabbiest, shabbiest part of me.

Yesterday, I decided to take my wrath at my thighs out on them. I tried doing hip shimmies to failure, and not just the simple shimmies but the really hard ones, knees bent low and the motion smooth, instead of snapping at the hip. I couldn't quite force myself to keep doing it until I was physically incapable of continuing, but I did manage to produce quite interesting sensations in my thighs. After that, I switched to hip circles, which was the exercise that I used to kill my thighs with when I started exercising last year. When I first started those, five or six minutes of it would leave my thighs miserable for the entire following day.

This morning, as I was puttering around getting ready for work, I realized that my thighs didn't hurt. My calves were a little sore -- what's up with that? I didn't do any toe raises!

My thighs to my calves: "Flyweights."

I gotta get me some weights.