It turns out that I’m a lover of winter. It’s been years since I’ve had a proper one (London, 1995)… And I’m thrilled to be in the thick of it here in New York. (Okay, so it’s only December… I may be less thrilled in February. As far as I am concerned, there has never been anything thrilling about February.)
Still, winter has it’s challenges. I’m not emotionally ready to discuss the hazards of winter driving in my neighborhood. You should just know that I’ve grown used to the panic of being stuck up a hill with my wheels a-spinning. I’ve never loved the minivan, and currently, I’m loving it less. (Can you break up with something you’ve never loved?)
But running in winter is a marvel. I feel a bizarre mastery of the elements and for a few, brief moments a day, I feel tough.
Truthfully, there is nothing tough about me. I am especially un-tough when I am slipping on my ass while running down an icy hill. So, I did some research on snow proofing my shoes.
A friend sent me a video of a very fit man screwing nails into the soles of his shoes. I asked M if he could do it for me, but he only told me that someone who falls regularly without ice underfoot has no business running on ice.
Pshaw.
Then I remembered that my Seattle running partner sent me a pair of these.. As a joke?

These are basically shoe condoms with nails on the bottom:

I slid my feet into them and was ready for the road. (Note: I am quite well endowed in the foot department and there are therefore a bevy of dirty comments I could make. But I’m too much of a lady to do so.)
My outfit now consists of running tights, shirt, jacket, neck warmer, gloves, baseball hat (if it’s snowing.. To keep the snow out of my eyes), warm hat (over baseball cap)… And now shoe condoms.
It’s an incredibly hot sight. I’m both tough and incredibly hot in my spectacular running getup.