131. THE THIGHS OF INDIAN THUNDER

I’ve been doing me some long distance running for the last few months now and prior to that was religiously following the Tracy Anderson Method but through it all, I’ve noticed, that there is still one thing no trainer in this world can get rid of and that’s me good ole thunder thighs.

I’m not talking about any old thunder thighs, I’m talking about the ‘curry-vadai-chapati’ Indian thunder thighs; the type you see on those ole paintings of cherubic angels done by Raphael gracing the ceilings of cathedrals.

Yes those thunder thighs: The ones that shake, wiggle and sometimes even cause tremors as an Indian girl walks Planet Earth. Some even go on to say that it is the Indian thunder thighs that could be the cause of some of the world’s most devastating earthquakes, but to dwell over this would make me come off looking like a sick ole fart.

So let’s go on to the reason why I’m totally perplexed as to why me and my inherited thunder thighs just refuse to slim down.

I’ve done the grueling thigh-butt exercises by many trainers and still they refuse to look like the fish stick sized ones of most Chinese girls I see roaming around.

I’ve skipped meals, gone on low carb, no sugar, less rice, less greasy food and oil diet and even gulped down tankfuls of green tea the size of Darjeeling to boost my metabolism butt…o sorry but to no avail.

Thunder thighs still greet me with a wobble and a jiggle 2 years later.

‘Tis the very reason why shorts and daisy dukes are out of the question for me and possibly any other inflicted Indian girl with the same syndrome. Anything classified as short ends just at the knee, for imagine the shock of the world should they witness a massive ‘getting jiggy with it’ dance club party happening at thigh zone.

To top it off most Indian thunder thighs come with massive cellulite as part of the package. When coupled together with all the other wobbly bits of one’s anatomy, it only is natural if one zips over to the ‘Grandma’s Girdles’ section most of the time at the department store for that is the only weapon available in the world today designed to tuck in wandering fat lurking around your mid-section area.

The worst thing about the Indian thunder thigh however is, well at least for me, is that the more one works out, the bigger they seem to get, which goes against any Newtonian theory of force which states ‘that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’.

Gahhhhh! Frustrating indeed! Not to mention all the low-rise jeans, in my waist size, thank you very much, that I’ve had to pass up on coz they could only fit above my knees. Sheesh!

Hence I’ve come to the conclusion that unless I eat like a rabbit, starve, consume crack and other narcotics, do lipo, bind my god-given Indian thunder thighs for the rest of my life or simply give up and let it get fatter, it will continue to independently function as an annoying dosai and samosa fat accumulating machine on my body.

None of the options above unfortunately seem realistic at the moment so there’s only one thing left to do….

Carrot sticks anyone?