My Wrists Are Skinny

I have several physical features that I’m stuck with, but which I’d like to revise. One of those features is my wrists. They are skinny. This might not sound like a serious problem to some people. In fact, it’s not a serious problem for me, either. It’s not a problem by any measure. But it’s something I take notice of at least once or twice a week. I think I notice my wrists because they are attached to my hands. I see my hands very often. They are placed before me for many hours of the day and I have many opportunities to look at them, and then look at what’s attached to them. That happens to be my wrists.

I’ve been doing quite a bit of physical training over the past year. Much of this training involves weights and my arms. I can’t say I expected that the exercising would give me mighty wrists, but after having survived the training regimen of Erin Long, Brian Carpenter, and a few others, I’ve noticed that my biceps and other muscles look different but my wrists do not.

I guess some things just don’t change much, no matter what happens. Or perhaps my wrists are more buff than they were eight months ago and I just can’t tell the difference. Not that I have any idea what buff wrists look like. I know that my feet are larger than they were a few years ago. I know this is true because I’ve outgrown several pairs of shoes. I can’t explain this change, but it might just be due to the aging process. Or perhaps I need more understanding now than I did as a youth.

I haven’t taken the time to measure myself lately. I’d bet that I’m shorter that I was when I was twenty. I’m sure my butt takes up less space. My abs, even though Erin crunches them relentlessly every week, aren’t quite what they used to be. Forty years of bending over tables, desks, and keyboards has done quite a number on my spine and back muscles.

Wait a minute. I’m getting depressed by this spontaneous inventory of my body parts. I started this by discussing my wrists and now I’m critiquing the whole enchilada.

Perhaps I should look on the bright side. I don’t think my wrists have deteriorated over the years. They perform the same function they did when I was much younger. I don’t suffer from pain or other discomfort in them. They continue to transfer motion back and forth between my hands and arms. They don’t get in my way. Their skinniness probably has some advantages that I’ve just overlooked.

So now I feel much better about my skinny wrists. They might not look impressive, but they’re doing just fine the way they are.

In the words of a famous big-wristed philosopher, “I am what I am and that’s all that I am.”

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