I hate my thighs....but I'm working on it

I see how fat my thighs look here. 

I hate my thighs

I hate my thighs. I really shouldn't. I try not to.

They are good thighs. Thighs that can help me run two miles in under 20 minutes after not having trained at all. After not running for more than 10 years. Thighs that can do the splits, do a back walkover, get me through the toughest Pure Barre class.

Bridge kickover from last year

The thing is I've got muscular quads. Not the pencil thighs you see on all the models.

Not what my thighs look like

Even when I was in high school—when I was running twice a day and weighed 108 pounds, I still had quads. I still didn't have the thighs that looked good in shorty shorts.

I remember being in fifth grade—asking the other girls when I would be old enough to wear the short shorts that looked hot on other girls, that made me look like an overstuffed sausage.

My self-loathing went so far that for a few years I stopped wearing shorts completely. Because I hate the the way my thighs looked.

I was 28 or 29. At my highest weight. I saw a picture of me and my sister and stopped wearing shorts. I didn't want to look fat.

At 30, I started working out like a beast. And going the gym has really helped with my body confidence.

Just seeing other body types helped. Seeing muscular girls in shorts—and thinking they look powerful (not fat!) has helped me with this ridiculous demon.

Ever so slowly I've started wearing shorts again.

At first, I was worried about my leg's paleness, about a few spider veins.

But I looked around, and no one was grossed out because I didn't have model thighs (and never will).

I've purchased more shorts over the last year. I've started wearing them and not caring if my legs are pale.

The cut of shorts does help. Some will never work on my body type. I still can't do the super short shorts. But there are shorts out there for athletic girls. And sure, I might take selfie before heading out to see if the shorts work. Not all of them do.

I try not to look a picture and see how fat my thighs are. Focus on my smile or arms instead.

It's my demon—this thigh hatred. And I know I'm not alone.

For now, I will work on getting over it.

I see pictures of girls with too skinny thighs. At least I'm not that girl.

I've got real thighs. Unphotoshopped thighs. (Thigh gap, I laugh!)  Thighs that are strong and fast and can do amazing things.

On being a couch potato

Photo by Ian Burt, Flickr

The other day someone told my husband they were so proud of my fitness routine. Which is awesome. Except it was kind of a backhanded compliment because they told him that I used to be such a couch potato.

And he was pretty offended by that comment. I have never been a couch potato. I'm a hyper, always-moving type person. (He readily admits he's a couch potato.)

I haven't always been as active as I am now. I didn't have time.

In college, I was a workaholic. I was always studying or at work. After college, I was working 70 hours a week in my first jobs. Maybe I could have found time to workout, but I didn't. I was always busy with something: cooking, blogging, writing, reading, playing with my pets. I rarely sit still.

The comment grated him and it grated me. Someone else said I used to be sickly, which also offended me.

I have horrible allergies, that I haven't always had in check. I take about one sick day at work a year. That is not sickly.

I don't know what people say these things.

Am I healthier now?

Yes. I gave up dairy three years ago and it was one of the best decisions I ever made. My lactose intolerance got exponentially worsened in my 20s. I went from not being able to eat pizza—to being miserable if I had a bite of yogurt. So I cut it out completely and my daily stomach aches have banished. And I take calcium supplements and make sure to drink soy or almond milk.

I've got muscular arms now. But the thing is—I'm the same size I've always been. There's no dramatic weight loss. And at any point during my years of inactivity I could run an 8-minute mile. (I tried to take running back up about once a year during my hiatus.)

So this is probably a vent.

But people go through periods of inactivity and activity. Maybe I regret not being active all those years—but maybe I would have hurt myself, who knows? I started going to the gym when I had time for it—when my job changed and I had more time and more stress and needed an outlet.

My view is: If you work out—great! If you don't work out—make sure you eat healthy and have hobbies and outlets—then, good for you.

And just don't say: "I'm so proud of you" when I tell you about my fitness adventures.

It makes me feel like a special needs child.

Say: "I love that you're so into fitness. It looks like you're having so much fun."

Or just say: Cool or Good job. Awesome works too.

Keep it light and positive. There's no need for back handed compliments.