Dear Legs,

You might find this a bit strange, me taking time to write a letter to two inanimate limbs on my body, but there’s a reason for this. It’s time I acknowledge all that you’ve been through and thank you for holding me up (literally) all these years. You go through a lot on a day to day basis, between walking to class and running all those miles every week, and lifting weight and pedaling around campus, and dancing in my room late at night while I’m studying (or jamming with my roommates, whatever you want to call it). I squeeze you into leggings and then let you breathe when I put on shorts and try to tan; I unintentionally cut you while shaving and bruise you while I get treatment after practice. Occasionally I bruise you when I’m texting and walking and bump into the corner of a table, or scrape you when I trip and fall. I stretch you and foam roll you and cross you when I’m wearing a skirt. I make you sore when I wear high heels and I support you when I wear clunky sneakers that feel like I’m walking on clouds.

You guys carry me through every day, and without you I wouldn’t have the schedules or routines that I have now. It would be quite hard for me to run or bike or swim or dance or do anything I love without you. So thank you for being here for me, for being healthy and working the way you’re supposed to and allowing me to go on whatever crazy adventures I want to go on when I wake up each morning. Thank you for carrying me all the way to college, through every hard workout that makes me feel like you’re going to fall off, and through every day that doesn’t seem to end because we’re up so early and not asleep until too late. Thank you for being strong and supportive and willing to go on any run, literally.

I want to apologize for all the times I’ve hurt you though. Yes, shaving and tripping is all by accident, but sometimes I hurt you with my words. Sometimes I stand in the mirror and look at you and wish you were thinner and more toned and maybe not as jiggly. Sometimes I get sad when you don’t fit into my favorite pair of jeans quite like you used to when I was in tenth grade. Sometimes I look at you and say I don't like you, say you’re my least favorite part of my body because you don’t look like hers or hers or theirs. And sometimes I find legs that are strong and carry other people for more miles than you've carried me, and I say I hate you because you are too weak and too small. Basically, I tell you that no matter what, you’re not good enough.

That’s not right for me to do. I shouldn’t be tearing you down, I should be building you up. I shouldn’t compare you to anyone else’s legs because you are mine and that is so incredibly special. I was blessed with legs like you that can do things that other people’s legs can’t, and legs like you that can’t do things that other people’s legs can. But I’m growing up and changing, and that’s okay. You’re getting stronger, and that’s okay. You’re building yourselves up while building me up too. You’ve gone through minor injuries and pains that have been strong enough to hold me out for entire seasons, but you’ve rebuilt yourselves. You’ve recovered and made it through and still been strong enough and talented enough to keep me going in the sport I love and the lifestyle I love.

So, Legs, I am so sorry for any verbal abuse I’ve purposely put you through, and any physical abuse we’ve happened to encounter along the way. You’re pretty rad and I shouldn’t be trying to change that “R” to an “S” because you’re still here, strong and working better than ever. Thank you for being the perfect balance for me, thank you for being completely my own. Thank you for standing strong and thank you for working so fabulously. Here’s to many more years of journeying together.

P.S. I vow to drink more milk to ensure you stay strong.

Sincerely,

Megan