An Exercise in Futility

See also: Misadventures with Technology

Yesterday, I broke down and replaced my precious Asics Gel Nimbus 12 running shoes - the ones I spent an inordinate amount of time being fitted for, the ones that trained me all summer, the ones that ran the half marathon (*pause for moment of silent reflection*). I'm now the proud owner of a brand-spankin'-new pair of Asics Gel Nimbus 12 running shoes. Pink ones this time instead of blue, if you wondered. Because Christmas gift cards come in very handy for impulse shopping, I am also now the proud owner of a Nike +iPod thingy.

The thingy. I get to playing with it last night and see that it needs to be "calibrated". Fine. How hard can that be, right? Follow the directions and you're good to go. Oh, just keep reading.

Le Snoog is safely dropped off at school (on time and with nary a tear, woo!), I head over to the Y, and - cue the angels and trumpets, folks - there is NO WAIT for a treadmill! This is a good sign. The stars are aligning in my favor today. I attach the sensor, snugly tucked into its little velcro pouch, to my shoe and pull out the calibration instructions. Blah blah blah push button, blah blah blah set the distance (1 mile), press center button to start calibration. Hey now, here we go. I decide to take it a little slow so that Lance Armstrong can tell me I've just recorded a personal best for the mile a little sooner than he would if I put the hammer down, and finish my mile. At which time I press the appropriate button to end the calibration.

"Press the center button to start calibration."

Huh? I didn't just do that? Like a mile ago?

Allrighty then. Let's check the instructions and start this over. Yada yada yada push button, yada yada yada set the distance (mmhmm, 1 mile), press center button to start calibration. One slower-than-I-really-feel-like mile, let's watch the Today Show, all done. Push the button.

"Press the center button to start calibration."

REALLY? Are you KIDDING? I haven't even managed to calibrate this &%$#ing thing?

One. More. Time. Rinse, repeat. I finally got the little beast calibrated after the third mile. After which I needed to do my actual workout. I decide to see what "spoken feedback" I'll get when I do a timed workout instead of distance because I just don't want to think about miles anymore, so I set the thing and take off.

One mile in, I realize I have a blister.

This concludes today's workout, ladies and germs. Because I don't have the courage to try to figure out how to set the stupid thing up on iTunes yet so that I can broadcast my mad running skillz on Facebook, I'm going to just tell you I ran 4.25 miles this morning.

Three of which were spent calibrating the thingy. Lance, you better come through for me or I'm letting my son flush you down the toilet.