Take that Robert Plant

I started taking gymnastics at an early age, and excelled at it. My father tells me I spent more time upside down than right-side up during my formative years - maybe that's why I'm not quite right. Anyway, by the time I was ten, I'd spend upwards of 12 hours a week practicing or competing. That's in addition to my free time I spent flipping in the front yard or standing on my hands on the balance beam in my garage.

I was extremely fit, and quite buff back in the day. For a tween-aged girl.


I had muscles like no 7th grade girl you'll see mulling around the accessories aisle at Claire's. Seriously, in middle school my calves and thighs were more muscular than all the girls and many of the boys I knew.


It was hard finding jeans to fit in the junior dept - seems they were always too snug through the hips and thighs. (Many thanks to whoever invented the "curvy fit" jean.) I felt self-conscious in a bathing suit next to my super-skinny peers. (Kudos to whoever invented that wrap skirt cover-up thing for bathing suits, but I wish they'd done it sooner.)

The radio didn't help me get over my body issues either. ZZ Top sang about Legs back then, only the girls in their video barely had any. Robert Plant crooned, "I don't know but I've been told, a big legged woman ain't got no soul." Whaaat? Isn't it bad enough my middle school legs were better defined than the US tax code, do you also have to accuse me of being soulless?

I've since made peace (mostly) with my thighs, but oh how I hated them then. The only good purpose they served was catapulting me into the air so I could turn flips.

But wait, turns out there is another good purpose they serve. Finally, happy news for those of us with fuller thighs. Apparently, having a thigh circumference of less than 23.6 inches puts you at significantly higher risk for heart disease or dying prematurely! A circumference of less than 18 inches is particularly risky. I have to admit, sadly, they found no additional benefit in having thighs larger than 23.6 inches though. Here is the article proving this sounds-too-good-to-be-true fact.

So my thighs might just save my life? Cool. Now, that's worth flipping over.

Right now you are wondering where your tape measure is. Pull it out, measure, and take heart - literally. I don't know exactly where to measure so I went with the largest looking spot and mine measured 22.25. A little less than the magic 23.6 figure. Shhh, don't tell anyone my number. I wear black pants to make them appear smaller. I think I'm fooling people.

Now you go measure yours, only don't tell me if your thighs are smaller than mine ... that might trigger another complex. :) Meanwhile, I'm off to the neighbor's trampoline to turn a few flips in honor of my full, heart-healthy thighs.