I like to think that, in a perfect world, we’d all feel super awesome about ourselves and embrace what we’ve got. I mean, we’re all different, we might as well own it.
Here’s what I’ve got: long limbs. With long limbs comes great responsibility. Such as the important duty of always being the one to grab the box of cereal from the top shelf in the cabinet. Or being volunteered to reach behind the couch for that thing that dropped back there. I’m also very good at carrying surfboards (although riding them is still a work in progress) because my arms are more than long enough to grab the bottom of the board while I walk. Let’s not forget my ability to be the first to knock down the flower bouquet my friends throw at their weddings. These are my talents, folks.
(I’m the one in the light pink dress and no shoes. Despite my long limbs, my bff’s passion for the bouquet was ultimately the deciding factor. She was the victor.)
Photo courtesy of T’s wedding photographer.
Despite this impressive list of pros, there are, admittedly, a few cons to having such long limbs. It wasn’t until long shirts with long sleeves became trendy that I could successfully wear clothing that covered all parts of my body. Do you ever wear long sleeved shirts and have exposed forearms simply by raising your arms above a 45 degree angle? This is my life. I tend to be on the chilly side naturally, so shirts that expose half of my back when I do something as normal as leaning over to tie my shoe are an issue. Then there’s the issue of maxi dresses. They are a large source of sadness for me. Did you know there’s an appropriate length for a maxi dress? Did you also know it’s not 2 inches above your ankle? (#firstworldproblems, I know.) Determined to turn these challenges into opportunities, I try to move beyond my fashion woes and put my energy into something more positive.
I’m looking for ways to apply the previously discussed life skills (bouquet catching, anyone?) to my workout regime. It makes sense that I would be good at some things (excluding sit and reach: long arms + long legs do not = a long reach). I mean, I should at least be adequate at running . But alas, I’ve discovered that long legs make quick strides during runs rather difficult. I run like a gazelle. Not because I mean to, but because my legs know no other way to run than to reach as far as physically possible before setting back down on the ground. In other words, my turnover rate could be quicker.
Luckily, I have zumba for that. Zumba has been teaching me to take smaller steps. Would you like to know how I learned this? By watching myself in the 400 mirrors that surround the room in which I do zumba. I would watch the instructor and couldn’t imagine why I look like a frog in a blender (sorry for the analogy, PETA) when I do the same exact dance move. And then it hit me: my steps are too big. I don’t need to use the whole length of my leg just to take a step. Totally unnecessary.
Applying this new realization is also a work in progress, but it’s coming along. In the meantime, long live the long limbed ladies and lads. And the rest of you folks, too. Love what you’ve got because, well, it’s what makes you, you.