When you're training for a distance run, you gain some crazy muscle mass. I was poking about my quads and realized that I have acquired some impressive thighs. This reminds me of one of many stories of my athletic past. I think it's about time I started to share these stories.
I've always had sizable and powerful thighs. I believe it was my mother who first dubbed me "Thunder Thighs". This is a nickname that I at once abhor and adore -- for what I think are obvious reasons. In fifth grade over a meal of Chinese food, my friend Ben and I decided to join the Brookline swim team. I loved and still love to swim. However, when it came to the water, I was more buoyant than I was brisk. I did okay...but I seemed to have some trouble with a very key part of competitive swimming: diving. For some reason, I just could not get it right. Every time I leapt into the water, my thighs would angle in such away as to slap violently against the surface. My form could not be fixed. And oh it was painful. I'd work myself into such a panic right before I had to go up onto the starting block. Here we go again. The slapping also caused some splashing and there came a point when people knew to move away from the pool and shield themselves in the front rows when it was my turn to swim. Every time without fail I'd spray everyone within a certain radius when I touched down in the water. While Ben went on to be MVP of the season and much later a college champion swimmer, I (probably because I was able to dive into the pool once or twice without creating a tidal wave) received the Most Improved trophy and retired after one year.
We have to start somewhere.
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