Because, dear thighs, your enormous girth may not be such a bad deal after all. Sure, you force me a size up in jeans, creating the dreaded saggy butt and waist gap we all detest. And you have prompted questions like, "Do you speed skate?" and "How do you buy pants that fit?" You certainly killed my modeling career (oh, ok, maybe there were other contributing factors to that one). I'm pretty sure you're the reason someone yelled at me, "You want a biscuit to go with dem chicken legs?" during a race.
But you know what? Your extra inches are not the dreaded F word (fat) or the dreaded C word (cellulite) but are thanks to the much more acceptable M word (muscle).
Geez. Take a look at that muscle!
Is it any wonder that my skinny jeans don't fit just right?
Now I know this sounds silly but honestly that picture grosses me out. Ew. Weird looking hamstring. But hey, I guess that's what running and never stretching will do to a girl.
There. I have persuaded myself that big thighs are ok. I will now go to work happy.