I took my new running shoes for a quick 2-mile spin last night before dinner.  Other than that, I haven’t run since Saturday, and I feel like I can’t sit still. 
My brain is turning, my emotions are high, and I’m… eating. 
You’d think running 1,000 miles last year would have put me into wolf-whistle shape, but unfortunately, my body is desperately holding on to fat like it’s the last candy bar on a desert island full of sugar addicts. 
I’m well-aware that my fears about my running performance are merely symbolic for a much more primitive demon I’ve been battling for years now – I just can’t name it.  I believe it has to do with being afraid to feel good about my appearance.  I believe it has to do with being afraid of an unmanageable sex drive.
(Pudgy thighs) + (low self-esteem) = (Modest Lisa)
whereas
(Tight and toned) + (confidence) = (I’m too sexy for my shirt)
I’m sick to death of all the proposed excuses – you’re building muscle… you’re thinner than a lot of people your age… ah, live it up while you can… maybe it’s menopause – all things I’ve told myself and tried in vain to believe.  
It’s none of the above. 
Maybe Marianne is right.  Maybe my biggest fear is that I’m powerful beyond measure.  And maybe I’m afraid that I’ll use my powers for evil instead of good.  What is evil?  What is good?  I just don’t even know anymore. 
Beliefs I once held that were carved in stone have become worn with exceptions and justifications, much like the New Testament rewrote the 10 commandments.  Don’t work on the Sabbath – unless you’re saving a helpless animal.  Don’t steal – unless you’re feeding a starving child.  Don’t create babies outside of marriage – unless you’re sending your son into the world through a virgin to save it. 
C’mon.
My beliefs about marriage were shaken to the ground.  How often to two people keep the promises they make to each other on their wedding day?  Surely they mean it when they say it… although Mr. N/A convinced the Catholic Church that he really didn’t mean it and managed to get our 17-year union that produced 3 great kids annulled.  So since the marriage wasn’t valid, he neither cheated nor divorced, and therefore is not a lousy asshole jerk and can serve others holy communion on Sundays on a stage next to a priest who looks like a creepy pedophile and insults my daughter from time to time. 
Is marriage an outdated law?  Are human beings built to be monogamous for a lifetime?  Is it possible to break a promise you made to a person years ago that you intended to keep but then you find yourself in extenuating circumstances and you can truly justify your change of heart?  Should we ever believe someone who makes such a promise to us?  Should we ever promise such a stupid thing?  Are people who cheat always “bad guys?”  What are the exceptions, if any? 
A priest called me yesterday as a witness to a friend’s proposed annulment.  I told him honestly that I didn’t have a lot of confidence or support for the whole process, but that I wanted my friend to move on with her life and be happy.  We spoke at length about my friend and ended up talking briefly about my own experience and marriages, and I guess that set off a whole slew of thunderstorms in my beautiful mind.
Marriage and commitment.  Sex, fun, happiness.  Following my heart.  Keeping promises.  And… being sexy. 
Sigh…
I really have no fucking clue.

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