Awkward Long Legged Turtle

Shopping at Walmart.

Checking out and waiting for my receipt. Standing around for all 100 $ worth of groceries to be bagged.

Such a boring trip. Until I asked for quarters.

The cashier directed me to the bank behind me. Hauling myself over to the counter I asked if they could change out a roll of quarters. Laundry Mount Everest needed to be dominated. The guy seemed way to eager to help me.

And while my mom has always said I have a nice pair of these, I just thought they were too pale and awkward for the world. Until I moved to Texas. I guess the warm weather and some lifting have been doing me some good because the teller took a breath and spit out, "Just so you know, you have a really nice pair of legs." Whew. Glad he said legs. Wait? He said legs?

This was all happening to fast. I just needed quarters. Suddenly my running shorts felt too short and my shopping cart was way to heavy. I also felt the major need to flash my gorgeous engagement ring extra well when I reached for the necessary coins of domination that he was handing me. I was too embarrassed to say anything so I just turned to go. He called out, "I just thought you should know, they are nice!"

So awkward.

...

Are people in Texas just willing to say more? I had a guy come in at work and call me "A tall drink of water" right in front of his teenage daughter, who rolled her eyes and said, "Daaaad, please." I think Texans are a very confident group of people. It is pretty intimidating. 

SO I am just going to take myself back to the track. Put on my shoes. Try get some more miles under my belt. That is where I always feel at home. My legs are good at turning left. They have more freckles than muscles. And, besides causing me a little embarrassment, the are the most coordinated things I have. That isn't saying much, but it is what I am thankful for.

Life question- So if my legs look better after only a little bit of lifting, why don't my arms follow suit? SAS has made an all too triumphant return. Even with lifting they are still pretty pathetic. In fact, my trainer doesn't think I can even bench press the bar. Not that any runner needs to be able to bench press a bar, but I could do that when I was in junior high. This week's small goal is to prove I can hoist that dumb metal bar up over my face in a precarious position. Time to start praying!