Like a lot of women, I spend a fair amount of time assessing my derriere in the mirror.  When shopping I avoid pencil skirts, jeans with busy back pockets, and basically anything “slim fit” through this area.  I realize there are much worse problems to have than an ample and uncooperative back side.  I know it would be much more revolutionary of me to leave my booty the hell alone to grow and flourish and fill out clothes however it likes.  But we’ve had this contentious relationship for decades, and feuds of such length and complexity are difficult to resolve.

When running, I rarely give the way my butt looks a second thought- as long as it is fast.  And today it didn’t disappoint, in that department at least.  Following school drop off, we logged a quick, cool 4-miler in just under 30 minutes.  Saving 1 of the scheduled 5 miles for a treadmill warm-up, we next headed to UEF for a training session.  During this time, I worked my fanny off (well not completely- I still  won’t be buying True Religion denim any time soon), destroyed my core, and obliterated my upper body.  Quite surprisingly, when I checked myself in the mirror before heading out the door, I hardly noticed my butt at all.