Dear Hamstrings,

I miss you. Please come back.

I repent of my lack of attention to you after our morning in the garden last Friday. I realize now that you were working then, and I should have done you the decency of stretching you after we were done.

But I think my family is starting to look at me as an invalid — perhaps an early candidate for a cane or wheelchair. I am walking like I have arthritis in both knees.

Thank you for your constant service to me, hamstrings. Please forgive my ingratitude.


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