Runnaway Flab

I reckon most if not all women at some point experience the symptoms of age.  You get that feeling of your boobs losing all their precious volume.  They become lifeless, start their decent to the dreaded South Pole.  Nothing that a good valued under-wire, padded – even double padded bra cannot disguise.  I can handle that, I can even handle the prospects of having bloodhound cheeks… you know, those little pieces of saggy cheek that positions themselves nicely next to your mouth.  It runs in my family you see…bloodhound, hamster cheeks.  But for that there are many fabulous non-surgical procedures, so that I can handle as well…. But, and this is definitely a butt, what I hate beyond a doubt is that feeling I get when I run…. Or not really even run, more of a light trot across the road to my car. You see, it is not the feeling of boobs bouncing up and down or breathlessness or any of those common occurrences…far worse. It’s the feeling of my tush cheeks being oh so gloriously flabby, bouncing up and down and feeling as if they are almost smacking me on the back.  Depressingly depressive and with one solution only… (Other than the painfully, bloodied surgical procedures) and that is to simply not run, or trot even.  Briskly walking is the new “run “thing… Make a mental note


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