When you turn from one room to the next, when your animal senses no longer perceive the sounds of the dishwasher, the ticking clock, the smell of a chicken roasting - the kitchen and all its seemingly discrete bits dissolve into nothingness - or into waves of probability.
Yes, I mean, I used to be into the big bulk thing, and that's why my legs look like those of a cyclist instead of a shooter's, but I think there is a point to where too much is not a good thing. I think I try to lower my center of gravity by doing a lot of legs.