ATTENTION: New Year's Resolution-ers

Take note: I'm ready for you leave the gym. You've lost your novelty, you're no longer entertaining. I'm ready for you to go back to your prime-time television and get off the treadmill/pool/bosu/ball that I'm wanting to use. I'm definitely ready for you to quit looking at me like I'M the one that is out of place.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate what you're trying to do and would be proud if you stuck with it. You've got great goals there, big guy, and goals are important. But here's the deal - I do this athletic thing 11 months out of the year (10 apparently when there's an Ironman, but I even had a running race thrown in during that time....) and I consider myself potentially a bit higher on the food chain for the treadmills. I'm willing to run outside in 35 degrees, I understand that I will probably puke during a competition at some point during the year, and I will be doing my damndest to bring home some hardware again (yes, it's a loosely held term..hardware for 3rd in an age group of 4 still counts, damnit). So while you think the treadmill is cute and you'll walk your 30 minutes while you read Tolstoy or Cosmo and wear your Hollister or Old Navy t-shirt with semi-perfect makeup and the cute little hair-thingy, I think it's an implement of torture and would much rather run down 146th St or pretty much do anything but run on that bastard. But here's the deal: in May I will be running a marathon, you will have long forgotten about your New Year's Resolution to lose 10 lbs and will have gleefully returned to American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, Friday Night Lights, or whatever else punches your buttons.

So please, do those of us that HAVE to do this thing at the gym almost every night while there's snow on the ground and we dream of getting outside again a huge favor and just tuck it in already. I know this sounds pompous and I'm going to offend someone. Get over that, too.

I do appreciate what you're doing, I really do, and I would like for you to stick with it, but I much more would just appreciate being able to get in, get my run done and get out without a fuss.

You: Come to the gym looking semi-perfect, cute little matchy-matchy outfit, your brand spankin' new shoes, white socks, hair and makeup just so. You get on the treadmill or the stationary bike for 20 minutes or so with your magazine or your book and you putter. You don't sweat (that much), you don't look like you're in pain, you don't look like you work that hard. You then putz around with some of the machines, make a bit of a show about stretching (while fixing your hair, makeup and matchy-matchy) and possibly doing some ill-techniqued crunches or pushups. You then proceed back into the locker room to make sure everything is just so, possibly spend some time talking to the "hottie" on the bench press or the sales guy that's just "de-lish" - what better place to pick up someone, after all.....You then, feeling totally justified, grab a hamburger or ice cream on the way home, hair still just-so and matchy-matchy looking totally fashionista.

Me: I wander into the gym looking fairly miserable. I wear sweatpants with bike grease on them, a sweatshirt that could smuggle immigrant children, a 'boggan pulled down to my eyes and carry my backpack from my last race (which could also smuggle the immigrant children's worldly belongings). I go directly to a random locker (and probably 3 more finding people's stuff stashed in them without being locked....) strip off said sweats, grab the headband and the water bottle (assuming I've remembered to wash it and it hasn't molded) and the little towel I use to mop up sweat. I proceed to treadmill, and spend my warm up time walking getting funny looks. I then realize that my running shorts are a garish teal and my running shirt is orange and green. I don't have makeup on (or if I do and have forgotten to get it off my face I try to mop it up with aforementioned towel), my hair is all sorts of outta whack - but pulled ruthlessly back into the ponytail from hell. I run, I sweat. If you can't look at me and tell that I'm in pain and NOT having fun, I should run faster. I stand on the stupid machine longer than 2 cycles of people around me, I occasionally dance or whistle with my iPod. And yes, I can text and run at the same time....Hangup your phone - you'll see Husband in 30 minutes when you're done and home again. After an interminable amount of suffering, I crank the speed back down and walk - checking my heartrate about once a minute. It plumments from "Call the Paramedics" high to reasonable in about 2 minutes and I start feeling human again. I've usually launched the iPod at least once by now and shut off the treadmill accidently once as well. I then take my chubby butt down to the mats area to work on some core work. Yes, Bosu Barbie, you can do a gazillion pushups on your knees and a thousand little piddly crunches. And you're still not sweating. Aren't you cute? I suffer through 5 - 15 minutes of torturous core exercises and some yoga stretches and retreat back to my sweatpants and away. I grab veggies when I get home, feed the dogs and collapse miserably into the couch - showering only after I've warmed up from hypothermic temperatures and hauling my butt to bed. I will be back tomorrow....