With a bit of good weather that seems to have arrived, I went out in shorts for the first time since starting this running thing. I took a look in the mirror before I headed out (after all, I don't want to frighten the horses) and was astounded by what I saw. I had been expecting a pair of indistinct, slightly wobbly, shapeless poles of flabby bones, to match the jolly fat man belly and almost need a sports bra man boobs that have defined my "one cookie is never enough" figure that I last saw when we had summer weather last year. Instead I saw legs with defined shapes, where an anatomist might be able to point at the various firm bulges and give them complicated sounding latin names while explaining the workings of the knee or ankle joints. These are the kinds of changes that don't show up on a weighing scale or make you buy different sized clothes, but it can't be a bad thing.
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