I Love My Legs

In celebration of International Women's Day and all of the intersections it has with the concept of body positivity , I'm going to talk about my body, because my body is a phenomenal piece of machinery. It should be recognized and honored as such. I love it.

Part of being a woman in today's world is constantly confronting societal expectations and aesthetic preferences around what a woman should look like and how we should dress and whether or not we should be spending time away from our families doing stuff we love and/or need to do. 

I spend a lot of time running. I choose to honor and respect my body. I choose to honor the gift of being a woman who runs.

I love to run. And I love my legs, what they can do, what they represent.

Beautiful, powerful women, with legs. 

I run because I need to be outdoors. I need to feel the sun on the back of my neck, or the gentle rain lightly landing on my already sweaty face. I thrive on this almost daily habit of being awakened by the smell of coffee from the percolator in the dark hours of early morning.  I run because the sensation of carrying my body over great distances on my own, big, strong legs is powerful. 

Power. My legs translate the power and strength given to me by my mother and passed on to both of us by my grandmother into forward motion. Energy. Momentum.

My dimpled thighs are wide and brown, my calves thinner and chiseled. Together, they work to propel me forward. Most of the time, their muscles, even when hidden, prevent me from falling and hold me steady. If I do fall, they offer padding and flexibility. Finally, they offer the ability to stand up again. And they continue on their path, my path.

I went out on a run this morning with some friends. The sun was a brilliant yellow and the sky was a sharp blue. We celebrated being women, practicing self-care, and honoring our bodies

My legs carry me, and I carry the wisdom and love given to me by the women in my life onward.