Well, just weeks after proclaiming proudly to Nick that I had found a cure to black toenails—the plague of running seasons years past—I up and un-do all of my preventative measures:

Mostly, I've started running again.

And, I blame it completely on this doohickey that makes me want to run every day, to keep outdoing my last run, even if it means jogging in 90° heat and seeing black spots in my field of vision. I am addicted. Nike+ is my new best friend.



I came in from my run last night with a shoe that looked like it could be the set for a CSI episode and I said wryly to Nick that I guess that blister wasn't ready to go running without a bandage yet. He asked unbelievably how I couldn't have felt that, that I should have had a voice in my head saying, "Stop running, you're hurt." I had to chuckle. You don't go from a couch potato to a gym rat without learning how to ignore pain.

Still, I was back out there again today, cursing the sun for coming out and beating down on me while my shirt felt 2 pounds heavier sopping wet with my sweat and actually wishing—and I can't even believe this crossed my mind—that it was a little bit cooler, that the humidity was less, and wishing for fall, when I can really put on some mileage and display some speed without that pasty thickness coating my tongue and fluid clogging my airways.

I got the doodad from Nick's Mom for Christmas, and, sadly, it lay dormant for months while I struggled to find my will to exercise after so much post surgery lazy time. Finally, Nick hounding me to use it (knowing I would love it once I started using it), I plugged it in that first time and I've been hooked ever since. I've run more in the last two weeks than I have in almost all of the summer before that—and isn't that a disgusting little tidbit? It's crazy. If you're a runner, you need this.