Anna Quindlen won a Pulitzer Prize in 1992.
Excerpt from SportsIllustrated.com:
"When was it that I finally gave up that gesture, as simple and as symbolic as flashing a thumbs-up or flipping the bird? In memory I am as skinny as a straw, fragile, almost pathetic; perhaps I am six or seven. I bend my arm at the elbow, make a right angle and a curled fist, and then pop my biceps, the muscle bulging beneath my skin. I am Olive Oyl with Popeye arms. I am showing my brother that I am strong. I am showing him that I am tough. I am showing him that I can kick his butt.
Years, even decades, of my life have gone by when the idea of flexing my biceps would have seemed ridiculous, foolish, the vestige of some bygone little-girl machisma. Yet here I stand, at 44, brushing my hair before the mirror and admiring the undeniable torque of the muscles of my upper arm and shoulder. When I do concentration curls, I use 15 pounds for each arm. I have graduated to 40 pounds on my chest presses, although I still use only two 10-pound weights-and those with difficulty-when I do shoulder presses. I do three sets of push-ups, 15 in each set, and as I raise and lower my body to the ground, I sometimes find myself thinking three things: I am strong, I am tough, I can kick butt. None of this is particularly true, but I like the thought."