In the winter, I tend to wear pants to work a lot, so I'm always buying more, trying to keep up with the wear and tear in my wardrobe...and pants are just one of those items of clothing you have to try on before buying. If there's anything I've noticed, it's that if a pair of pants are not going to fit, it will be because of either my hip/booty combo...or my thighs.
I don't have a thigh gap. These babies rub. There's a little bit of cellulite on the back, and when I sit, my thighs spread out across the seat. I can wear those tiny running shorts for shorter runs, but anything over 3 miles and Baby Got Chafing.
My favorite pair of "winter white" pants fit perfectly around my waist, hips, and bottom. They flare gently around my calves. But at my thighs, they hug, and they hug tight.
I have thunder thighs.
And that's okay.
My thunder thighs are mostly made up of muscle. Muscle that works hard. This morning, I ran ten miles, marveling at how, even though I'm tired and my calves are sore, my thunder thighs don't complain. They keep pushing, up the hills, down the hills. Sometimes, I briefly put my hands down, and lay them flat on my thunder thighs, just to feel the muscles bunch and release as I walk. There's some fat, too, because most women have a bit of extra fat on their thighs.
I call them my thunder thighs because thunder is powerful. Thunder makes your house shake. Thunder is nature's way of yelling. It's always followed by electricity. If I'm going to be gifted with thunder thighs, then may I use them well.
|Who wears short-shorts?|
|Go, Thighs, Go!!|