No matter what I do at the gym or what I eat, there remains an area of my body that refuses to change. Okay fine, I am a thick girl and I accept I will never be the kind of person who has thigh gap. but why WHY why does it have to be these flabby chunks of flesh and fat that haunt my every moment? I mean honestly. Just look at how big I had to draw that yellow box to cover up and hide the worst part of my legs.
And I specifically purchased my Mormon bathing costume to hide that part of my thighs! but the bottoms, which are more shorts than anything, still ride up to expose the terribleness.
I’m old enough and gross enough now that I shouldn’t care, right? That I should just go enjoy my time in the infrared sauna and who cares about my thighs and the rest of my sad middle-aged body. And I’ve become invisible to the world anyway, SO WHO CARES.
But I do. I don’t want to care but I do. I’m very vain.
So now I’m going to have to buy one of these bathing costumes, cause this won’t look at all weird or embarrassing at the gym.
Every Friday at 3pm mountain time (5pm Cleveland time) my three fave coworkers and I listen to Cleveland’s classic rock station for the weekend salute/traffic jam. They play these same four songs every week and nothing makes me happier.
Born to run
Beat goes on
Bang on the drum
Born to run is my favorite obvsly but the whole block is just glorious and I never get tired of it.
In other news I’ve really done it now. Look at this fresh new hell I’ve created for myself