Ask (or don't) and you shall receive.

The trick to getting useful gifts around the holidays, without having to bother with a list, is to pick up a hobby. For example, if people know you like to read, they will buy you books, or gift cards to book stores. If people know you like to cook, they will buy you cook books. If people know you like to drink, they will buy you a membership to the beer/wine of the month club, or perhaps a membership to the local branch of AA.

Or, simply let people know that you're into running, and training for a marathon and triathlon, and you'll be inundated with related presents. You won't even have to ask. And you will like it.

Here, a sampling of the things I opened on Christmas morning:

In no particular order, there is a pair of Saucony gloves/mittens (what do you call those things?), an Asics fleece, a pair of 2XU tri shorts, a Frog Light for the bike, biking gloves, a Camelbak water bottle + mount for the bike, Under Armour capri tights, a headlamp, and a Road ID. Not pictured is a pair of Balega socks (they were dirty). 

Points of interest in these products include the fact that the Saucony gloves have a tiny blinking LED light on the palm, the tri shorts have fleece (or for you fancy people "chamois") in the crotch, the headlamp battery case is extremely hard to open, I'm debating wearing the Balega socks during my marathon, and most of these items either are, or contain, the color pink.

And I didn't have to ask for a single one of these gifts. But you bet your sweet butt I can, and will, use them all.

Perhaps my favorite gift related to triathloning is not even gear. It's this sweet mug darling boyfriend stuck in my stocking:

I also got another little "surprise" right around the holidays, but no one had to pay for it or wrap it up (except maybe me, in the future). *WARNING: If you don't like feet, don't continue!*

It's my first EVER black toenail! The picture is a bit blurry, but clearly it's my second toe. It's a kind of gross, but I'm a little proud of it. It's like my own personal initiation into the long-distance running club. I think I'll be OK with it, as long as it doesn't fall off. I don't plan on giving myself a pedicure until after the marathon.

Things I should not have to witness at the gym.

You all know that one of the highlights of gym-going is people-watching. It's what makes the time go by more quickly while you labor away on the treadmill (which is why it's preferable to attend a gym where the treadmills are in the back of the room, like mine). There are things that make you laugh, stories that you file away in the back of your mind to tell your friends later, and then...there are the things that make you cringe.

I have compiled a list of things I've seen (or heard, or smelled) that just...aren't...right.

• A sweaty man running on the treadmill located directly beneath the fan, raising his arms to said fan to air out his armpits, thereby blowing BO-laden wind toward the unsuspecting people on cardio machines behind him;
• An elderly woman walking on the treadmill while absorbed in a novel, titled "Erotic..." something, picturing two scantily clad people on the front;
• Middle-aged women (OK, any-aged, any gender individuals) farting in the middle of a group exercise class, in a warm, crowded room. Repeatedly. Class after class, week after week;
• Spandex on inappropriate bodies. I know this one is controversial, because yes, people should be able to wear whatever they want. But when you are over 50, and you are wearing only tiny Lycra shorts and a sports bra, and you're well-endowed, and you're jogging on the treadmill, you're attracting attention - and not in a good way. It's not that hot in the gym. There are fans. You can wear a tank top, I promise;
• Sex noises during exercise. I'm not just talking about people lifting heavy weights. I'm talking about grunting and moaning during yoga, and spin class. It's unnecessary, and it makes people uncomfortable;
• Denim during a workout. This one doesn't even bother me all that much, because I can ignore it, but how can someone run on the treadmill in jeans? Can you say chafing? Ouch!;
• Women sitting completely naked (no underwear) on the locker room bench. OK, I admit, I haven't seen this one first-hand, because the locker room is such a hotbed of gym violations that I avoid it at all costs, BUT I know it must happen because my gym actually published a newsletter in which it was suggested that women NOT sit on the benches naked...um, duh?

Occasionally, when I am able to tear myself away from staring at the other gym patrons, I start thinking about what other people might be noticing about me. It leads me to wonder if anyone was watching that time that one of my ear buds fell out, dangled down into the wheel well of the recumbant bike as I pedaled, got wound around it, and accidentally yanked the earphone jack out of the machine...

Oh how I love working out indoors...

Yep, I said it. When the temperatures are frigid and the roads and sidewalks are icy, sometimes it's nice to be able to exercise inside. Where it's warm. Where I don't have to wear 5,000 layers that only serve to weigh me down. I hate the cold weather, which is ironic since I live in a place where it's relatively "cold" for five or six months of the year.

I know, most people don't like to run on the treadmill when they could be running outside, because it's boring, or it feels like you're going nowhere (well...you don't just feel like you're going nowhere, you are going nowhere). I tend to agree with those opinions, until the temperature dips below 20 degrees and the winds start blowing, and the last thing I feel motivated to do is go out and run for an hour or more. Which is part of the reason that I ran 14 miles on the treadmill last weekend.

With biking, you start to feel cold when the temperatures dip below 40 or so (at least, that's the case for me). The fact that you're moving pretty fast and creating your own wind (I'm not talking about farting) makes the air feel maybe 10 to 20 degrees cooler than it actually is. Fingertips? What fingertips? Forget about them, can't feel them. The tip of the nose disappears, too. 

And that is why I'm elated to report that I have moved Pink Lightning into her winter home.

 

This is Pink Lightning, on the Ascent Fluid trainer, in my basement. I scored the indoor trainer off of Craigs List back in July or August, anticipating that I'd need it in the future. I did a little bit of reading, and the Ascent Fluid got pretty good reviews, so I bought it from an older woman who was moving to North Carolina and would be able to ride outdoors year-round (lucky lady).

I am proud to announce that I read the directions and assembled this all by myself. It took me a little bit of huffing and heaving, and I had to consult the directions included in the box, and online instructions, but I did it! I then proceeded to to take the trainer for a test ride. I pushed Pink Lightning in front of the television, and pedaled away for 60 minutes, sweating my arse off. It felt much better than losing the feeling in my extremities. Plus, I didn't have to wear layer after layer of clothing. I was in the privacy of my own home, I could have worn a sports bra and undies if I wanted to (I didn't).

Once I was finished with the workout, I simply pushed the bike and trainer out of the way, where it is conveniently stored...in front of our "guest bed" and behind the TV and sitting area. 

Now, I'm not saying training indoors can replace training outdoors in any way, shape, or form. After all, I won't be running a marathon on the treadmill, or competing in an indoor bike race. I am still running outside when I have to - tomorrow, for example, I'll attempt a 20-miler outside while the temperature hovers somewhere in the single digits.

I'm just sayin', I wouldn't mind so much if Santa put a treadmill under the Christmas tree. And maybe next year he can spring for an indoor infinity pool.

I think my body hates me.

For some reason, my body doesn't seem to want to recover from my last long run. It was 18 miles, and it was on Saturday. This is Wednesday. What the hell? Both of my IT bands (iliotibial bands) scream at me when I get out of bed in the morning. For at least a few minutes, because the IT bands go from the hip to under the knee, I walk completely stiff-legged. I look like some sort of idiotic tin soldier parading around. 

Once the bands loosen up and I can start to walk like a normal person, I notice all the other aches and pains. I randomly get "phantom pain" on the outside of my right foot, where my stress fracture was almost a year ago. Apparently these pains (which in my case just feel like dull twinges) are normal, although doctors say they don't know the cause, and I don't understand why they call them "phantom" because that basically means imaginary, and I don't think I'm imagining the sensation.

It's probably not just the long run that's hindering my body's recovery, come to think of it. I also swam on Monday and went to a class at the gym called Total Body Sculpt, which consists of many lunges, squats, various dumbbell exercises, and ab work. The extreme soreness in my right thigh, which causes me to try to put as little weight as possible on it when going down the stairs, could be attributed to the squats and lunges. The intense planks off of the bench are certainly the biggest factor behind the ab soreness that made me gasp when I tried to turn over in bed last night.

People watching me walk (or hobble) around must be wondering what I did to get myself into this condition. I want to tell them I got this way by trying to get in shape, but I doubt they'd believe that attempting to do something healthy made me look like a cripple. Yesterday, when I had to get up out of my rolling office chair, I knew I needed a lot of momentum, so I grabbed the edge of the desk and launched myself with as much force as I could muster, nearly ending up in a coworkers lap on the other side of the room (I think he secretly liked that though). Later in the day, as I was leaving work and going down a small set of two stairs, another officemate asked if I'd hurt my back. When I said, "No, why?" she told me that I'd grimaced as I stepped down. I hadn't even noticed!

I have 4.5 weeks to go till the marathon. I am begging, pleading with my body to hold out until then. And to let me run 14, 20, 12, and 8 miles in the mean time (plus shorter runs of varying distances). To appease my aching muscles, I'm downing hundreds of milligrams of motrin, rolling them with The Stick, stretching, and talking to them in soothing tones.

C'mon body. Don't fail me now!

Why do people think it's OK to...

...make ridiculous comments to me while I'm running?

I don't know if just lacing up my sneakers and hitting the pavement is somehow the same thing as putting a sign around my neck or on my back that says "Please talk to me!" but it seems like people interpret it that way.

I recently had a five minute conversation with a guy who slowed down his pick-up truck to drive alongside me while I ran. I know that sounds incredibly dangerous, but it was broad daylight on a relatively busy street, and there were a lot of people around, so I wasn't terribly concerned. I'm not an idiot. Well, most of the time, anyway. This particular man, who apparently had seen me running down the same street in the past, slowed down to ask if I was training for something. When I told him yes, a marathon, I got to hear a long narrative about how he trained all year for a half marathon, but injured his sciatica and had to bail on it. Plus, his sister ran a marathon through Team in Training. After about a quarter of a mile, I knew practically his entire life story. I was trying to be polite, but I mean, hello, I was also trying to RUN! Eventually he wished me luck and drove on.

Granted, that was the only real "conversation" I've had with a stranger while running, but there have been plenty of shouts and fleeting exchanges. Just today I had two different encounters. I headed out in the morning for a six mile run, and passed by a couple of people paving a driveway down the street. I tried to make myself invisible, but as I went by, one of the men yelled out "Just 3 more miles to go!" I chuckled, and from a distance heard another say "It's only 3 miles from here to my house." Cue lots of macho guffaws. 

Later I was making my way down another side street when a taxi went by. The driver called out "Good job!" and gave me a thumbs-up out the window, a hand signal he kept up until he was out of my sight. 

Now, I appreciate the sentiments of all of these people. Clearly, man number one just wanted a little camaraderie, group number two wanted to let me know I didn't have far to go (even though they were wrong), and I think it's pretty obvious that guy number three wanted to tell me how awesome I was. Thanks guys!

But seriously, I should think it would be obvious that running is not exactly conducive to a conversation or acceptance of praise. I wish people* would realize that. 

* There is one exception I will make, and that is the crazy man who plays the guitar and sometimes sings me songs about how girls aren't supposed to run as I go by. That shit makes me laugh.