Leg day: the reason I walk like a penguin for the next three days.
Leg day: the only day I’m grateful for escalators.
I don’t need stairs or elevators, leg day gives me all the lifting I need.
Leg day: the day when my quadriceps become quivering quads.
Leg day: where you discover muscles you didn’t even know existed.
My legs are so sore after leg day that sitting on the toilet becomes an Olympic event.
Leg day: the day when I become one with the squat rack.
I love leg day so much, I even have a tattoo of a dumbbell on my thigh.
Leg day: when I feel the burn in places I didn’t even know had muscles.
Leg day: where my dreams of having jelly legs finally come true.
Who needs a butt when you can have legs that can crush watermelons?
Leg day: the only day I’m grateful for sore muscles.
I walk the fine line between pain and pleasure on leg day.
Leg day: the day when my booty game gets strong.
Leg day: the day when I embrace my inner flamingo.
Leg day: the reason I wear yoga pants for maximum flexibility.
Leg day: where I find my calves have more veins than a road map.
Squat like nobody’s watching on leg day.
Leg day: where walking becomes a form of modern art.
Leg day: the day I become a human giraffe.
Leg day: when I realize stairs are the true enemy.
Don’t skip leg day unless you want to walk like a newborn deer.
Leg day: where I find out just how noisy my knees can be.
Leg day: making skinny jeans my worst enemy.
Leg day: when my legs feel like Jell-O made by an angry chef.
I don’t have a six-pack, but I have a twelve-pack of chicken legs after leg day.
Leg day: the day when I can finally put my squat proof leggings to the test.
Leg day is the only day of the week where my socks get a good stretch too.
Leg day: the only time I’m grateful for the invention of the foam roller.
Leg day: where I discover new ways to curse in every squat.
On leg day, even standing up becomes a workout.
Leg day: where I question my decision to take the stairs instead of the elevator.
My legs are so sore after leg day, I could win a limbo competition without even bending.
Leg day: the day when bending down to tie my shoes becomes a tactical operation.
Leg day: when my thighs feel like they’ve been hit by a wrecking ball.
Why bother skipping leg day when you can just crawl everywhere?
Leg day: the day I pray I won’t have to use the bathroom at work.
Leg day: where my running becomes a cross between a newborn giraffe and a penguin.
Leg day: when walking down stairs becomes a slow and careful descent into madness.
Leg day: the day my thighs say ‘thank you’ with every step.
Leg day: it’s like Christmas morning, except instead of gifts, I get intense muscle pain.
Leg day: when I hate every decision that led me to this moment.
Leg day: the only day I feel Martha Graham would be proud of my interpretive dance moves.
Leg day: where I discover muscles I didn’t even know existed.
Leg day is a constant reminder that my body hates me, but I love the pain.
Leg day: giving me the steely determination to never wear shorts again.
Leg day: where I channel my inner caveman and become one with the squat.
Leg day: when I can’t decide if sitting or standing is more painful.
Who needs a personal trainer when leg day gives me my own natural wobble?
Leg day: the day when I realize my butt is my greatest nemesis.
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