Today it was -55 degrees here with blowing snow, hail and a minor hurricane.
I am just trying to one up everyone in the blog world who is talking weather and how freezing it is where they are. It seems it is effing freezing wherever you are. It is January after all. Except for those losers in Hawaii and Florida (I'm jealous, that's why I'm lashing out). Seriously, I just got out of my car and it was -9, so that's got to count for something.
This cold weather took me inside to the treadmill where I did my six miles. I was flabbergasted, blown away, and speechless when someone who works at the gym asked me how far I run every week because I "make it look so effortless." I have hardly ever in my life been complimented on my running. Consequently, I threw her down on the gym bathroom floor and kissed her (some tongue maybe) and asked her if she wanted my iPod and phone and children for keeps. Just because it was such a nice thing to say to someone like me who is a newer runner with a healing injury and pretty crappy form. Maybe she just was hitting on me. But I don't think so.
I also couldn't believe she complimented me because she was on the treadmill beside me and during my entire run I had the farts. The kind that slip out when your foot makes impact. The kind that might or might not make noise because your iPod is turned up so loud you can't hear your own toots. The kind that smell. The kind that linger. I know I pissed off some people. But I felt I couldn't help it. They slipped out periodically and totalled maybe only 15 for the whole six miles. That's not that bad, right? Next time I 'm going to bring my dog and let him lay by the treadmill the whole time so I have a legitimate scapegoat.
Oh, give me a break. Don't act all put out and offended. You know you fart too. If you didn't, you'd explode. Oprah even endorses it:
I did, indeed, get in my six miles. It felt good and apparently it was effortless. I am gearing up for training to start. I am feeling strong. I am cross training, doing yoga and running. I am signing up for a triathlon in June so I will be forced to cross train (swim, bike). There is nothing like paying a nominal race fee to get you motivated. Especially for us tight asses who can't stand to lose money. I swear, if I signed up for turd eating contest I would do it just because I paid the registration fee. But then I would never sign up for such a thing. Duh.
I'm a bit off today and needing humor, so bear with me. My dad has been in the hospital all week and not doing well, so I have had to find some relief where I can get it. I mean look at me. I have aged 20 years this week. Thanks for partaking in the rant.