I looked at a Vogue magazine in which I saw women's bodies. I decided that I would be schyzophrenic for the evening. Simultaneously telling myself that the magazine was wrong, while I was telling myself "keep running Trace."

A friend of mine came and got on the elliptical runner next to me. Then together we talked about how ridiculous these magazine pictures were, and how they weren't representative or real women's bodies at all.

"Real women are fleshy. There's more curve to them..."

I went into the locker room after my 30 minutes cardio. The water aerobics class had just got out.

I attest to the truth... real women's bodies are fleshy.

That's enough said about that.

Oh, Bocelli, how we long for the days of your paintings.

Oh Solomon, sing to us your sweet song: "My Beloved, Your stomach is like a mound of wheat..."

Sumitted candidly,

trace