Okay, I need someone to tell me when my legs were taken away and mysteriously replaced with middle-aged lady legs! Did this happen that night when I took one too many Restoril? Oh, I admit, the general shape of the aforementioned limbs are the same--fairly long, chunky in the thigh, cankles (damn my Polish/Russian peasant ancestry!)-- but there seems to be a road map of the entire United States printed on them! With lots of little red dots to indicate major cities and brown freckles to locate natural landmarks, you could travel from here to Los Angeles and back with stops at Mt. Rushmore, the Grand Canyon, and South of the Border by using my gams for navigation! Where did all the blue, green, and purple lines come from?!! They were NOT here yesterday!
The mystery deepened as I realized that all of my "young leg" marks are still visible. I can still see the scar on my upper thigh from when I fell on the playground in elementary school! If I can still see an elementary school scar, I can't be that old! And here's a scar from when I fell trick-or-treating with my daughter when she was a toddler. See, I'm still a young mom! It doesn't matter that my daughter is now 14 if I can see the decade old scar! And here are numerous bruises that I acquired just recently from...I don't remember, just being my uncoordinated self and bumping into objects, which is what I do. I'm ACTIVE! And rug burns from...well, never mind. I'm active.
So, how to reconcile this disconnect between how I feel and perceive myself and the legs that confronted me while doing downward facing dog in yoga? Maybe I'll grow to accept my middle-aged lady legs. I can look at them as showing the road map of where my life has taken me, metaphorically speaking. But if during the night my ass mysteriously turns into a big, ol' middle-aged lady butt, some heads are gonna roll!