There are muscles on the inside of my thighs. Very deep, surrounding my pelvis, stabilizing my movements at the most inner core level.

On the subway, people don't text on their palm pilots. Not one. They don't make conversation with strangers generally. A few listen to iPods and a few others thumb through newsprint in a different language.

I do my best to look like the majority of subway travelers. We stare up, out or down - never into others' eyes. I do such a good job of staring up, I look like I am riveted by that overhead public service announcement, "Cut Private Contractors, Not Public Services". I look like anyone staring anywhere, but I am actually having the time of my life: I am subway surfing.

With outwardly imperceptible movements, I sway, rock, resist, flex, absorb and right the motions of the Downtown N train with the muscles surrounding my pelvis on the insides of my thighs. I ride the underground waves at the most inner core level.

There is a special flow down here.

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