After a run one sunny day, I caught a glimpse of myself in a tennis skirt. — (I don’t play tennis, but I wear tennis skirts to run in. Reference my post, ‘To Go or Not To Go…Commando” and you’ll understand why). — Anyways, my immediate thought was that I really needed to pull up my pantyhose; never mind that I haven’t worn any since 1990 when I’d taken my last National Board exam.
Though I was looking lean that day, my thighs were sagging. That’s right, SAGGING! Who knew thighs could sag?
Boobs? Sure. Neck? Yup. But my freaking THIGHS?!
As far as my share of life’s stages go, I think my thighs went straight from the “so plump the heat index rises when you walk” look, to the “blown-out balloon” look. I don’t think I even got one bathing suit season worth of, “wow, she’s got some great legs!” Life can be so unfair (and God, I know there are much bigger burdens than saggy thighs, and you know I’ve juggled my share of those, so let me just say… I’m grateful I don’t have more).
We all need to resign ourselves to the fact that as we age, the supporting structure of our skin – a.k.a. collagen – starts to wane. You ever lay eyes on an individual pushing one hundred-years-old? They didn’t go from baby bottoms to saggy drawers in one day; it’s a part of life!
Things like sun exposure, smoking and a poor diet can accelerate this. Yo-yo dieting also contributes to saggy skin, hence the balloon reference. In my case sun exposure and weight fluctuations over 4+ decades have taken their toll. But would I trade my life for tighter thighs?
Although my weight has been up and down all throughout my life, pregnancy was by far the greatest contributing factor to my chubby thighs. Bring it on. I have two beautiful daughters because of it. How about the sun exposure? I’m sure to take some hits for this, but I love the sun. My dad was Italian and thankfully, he passed on his olive skin to yours truly. My dermatologist gives me a once-over annually, and I wear sunscreen…most of the time. But I love the beach, and maintain that tan fat is way better than pale fat. So, all things considered; no. I wouldn’t trade my countless days of loving life at the beach with my family for skin that doesn’t resemble a Birkin bag.
Like most things in life, I strive to find a happy balance, but you can be sure that when given the choice between sitting on the sidelines and diving in, you won’t find me on the bench. And I take the repercussions of my choices with a big smile, sunspots, saggy thighs and all.
I suggest you do the same!