Another Day of Running Rants

Some random stuff.

First, thanks for all the concern and well wishes. I took two days off from running  and did a short, easy run today and didn’t die, so I’m pretty sure that means I’m adequately prepared for a half marathon. I think I’ll just ditch the rest of my training plan. Or not. We’ll see how the next couple of weeks go.

When did workout clothes get so damn expensive? I went to Target last weekend to buy workout pants. I blindly put some items in my basket (checking prices is for losers) and made my way to the checkout counter (oh, but not before perusing the razor blade refills and having a slight heart attack. $23 for razor refills? Apparently, I’m too poor to shave my legs. Sorry for you, XFE).

But back to workout clothes. As I was heading to the exit, I thought to myself, “Hmmm, that tally seemed a bit high, even for tempt-you-with-other-stuff-Target. Lemme see here…. 40 US DOLLARS for a pair of running tights??”

How you like my sweat-xedo?

I’m sorry, but we’re talking Target here. Champion brand. Not the evil, Michael-Vick-supporting Nike. At least I know that with Nike, there’s a huge premium for all those flashy commercials and endorsements, so I don’t even bother looking at their stuff. When’s the last time anyone saw a Champion commercial? I think not, Target. I went directly to the customer service desk and returned those bad boys. Now I have hairy legs and old workout shorts. You are all welcome.

ALSO: because I’m a wimp and refuse to run outside in (a) anything under 50 degrees and (b) in the dark, which now descends at the ripe old hour of 4:30 pm, I have caved and joined a gym. This was an easy decision. The gym I chose wasn’t picked for its variety of classes (there are none); the delightful spa-like locker room (doesn’t exist. But there is a bathroom. Very basic though. I think you have to bring your own toilet paper), or the vast variety of the latest and newest equipment (there are like, 5 treadmills, a bunch of elliptical, a couple of bikes and weight machines, and some free weights.)

No, Crap Fitness was chosen amongst all the more glamorous selections because it is literally two blocks from my house and I walk past it every night on my way home. You’re right, that is convenient. And unlike many in my running brethren, I’m actually ok with running mindlessly on a treadmill. Yes, it’s boring, but nobody gets hurt. No issue there.

The thing is: this gym is hot as hell. It’s like I’m bikram running in there. No you guys, seriously, it is HAWT. Really, really hot. Like two rats humping in a wool sock hot. Like so hot hens would be laying hard boiled eggs. What I’m saying is: the gym is a might bit overly warm.

Dang y'all, it is hot up in here.

I recently asked the girl manning the front desk if other people have ever mentioned it being hot, and she looked at me like I had two heads. Perhaps because I was bright red and sweating all over her counter? I dunno, but she said, “nope.”

I do not believe her. I have eyes and I can see other people getting really red and sweaty too. I can also see that there are no air vents near the treadmills whatsoever, so that’s probably part of the problem. But apparently, no one else in the entire world is prone to complaining except me.

I guess I should have taken advantage of Crap Fitness’ whole “one week free trial period,” but I thought that was merely putting off the inevitable since I had to join a gym at some point, why be picky? But now? One super sweaty month into it, I’m really starting to wish I’d been picky. It is nice to just walk down the street to the gym though. UGH.

I bought a fan to clip onto the treadmill but it is incredibly weak and ineffective against my Extreme Radiating Heat (ERH). I think it gives me more of a mental boost than anything else. Maybe I should tape some ice packs to my forehead and temples. What? I’d cover it with some sweet headband.  

Knees up! And happy as hell!

 Y’all seem real fond of the Gold Rush post, so there’ll be another one coming tomorrow, you’ll be happy to hear.

Missing Out on the Missoni Madness

Hey! Did you hear the super big exciting news rocking the retail world today? Target started pimping out a new line of Missoni products today!!! That’s right – the super obnoxious zigzag knit that you probably DON’T remember from the 1970s is back! And at Target!

“Starting September 13 and only through October 22 will you find the 400 piece collection filled with Missoni’s signature zigzag prints and patterns at Target stores and at Target online.

Missoni for Target brings a rich heritage of signature prints and patterns to apparel and accessories for women, men, girls and baby, as well as home furnishings.”

And women across this country lost their ever-loving minds.

No, please no.

 

People (and by people, I mean women) started lining up hours before the stores opened, according to some reports. Poor, time-constrained professional women brought the Target website down trying to buy zigzags online. Merchandise was gone in minutes.

Seemingly-normal women took to Twitter to harass Target over their downed site or to provide minute-by-minute updates on the re-stocking patterns of area Target stores. Here’s a few typical tweets from this morning:

“RT (name of idiot “fashionista” redacted): Ooo—looks like they’re unpacking a bunch of Missoni goodies at the Suitland, MD @Target:

Things are looking up in MD! Greenbelt @Target will be putting Missoni shoes, shower curtains, and plates on the floor in the next hour.

I was at the alexandria target since 5am!! I got most of my musthaves online at 5:30. I was following by minute on twitter”

According to my friends over at Cardigans and Couture, a woman at a Boston, MA Target was so excited she left her baby in the car. Let’s let that sink in for a minute. A woman, highly desirous of some zigzag knit scarf or other hideousness, forgot she even had a child. In her car. In a parking lot. A concerned citizen reported the abandoned, locked-up child to Target customer service and an Amber Alert for the errant parent went out over the stores loudspeaker. I wonder if that stupid woman dropped her scarf and went to find her child or waited until after she’d paid her $24.99.

Now listen, I love me some Tar-jay Boutique just as much as the next girl, I really do. But seriously? Y’all do know this isn’t real-straight-off-the-runway, one-month’s-rent price tag Missoni, right? I mean, you probably won’t be seeing Rachel Zoe using this stuff on photo shoots with Demi Moore and giraffes or anything (although Zoe and Moore are allegedly big Missoni fans – but, like, the real stuff. Not the Target swag).

As you may have gathered, I’m not a big fan of the Missoni knits. I remember them from the 1970s. I’m pretty sure my mom had a whole closetful of earth-toned, knock-off Missoni-wannabe sweaters, cardigans, sweater skirts, etc, etc. that she would wear layered under some suede, fringed vest. Blech. I wish I still had that crap lying around – I bet I could sell it on eBay right now, claiming it was from Target, and make a fortune.

Next up on the retro radar: Cosby sweaters. Oh wait. That's Missoni too.

Also: I mean, talk about a one trick pony. Someone at Missoni back in the day figured out how to knit a zigzag and you build a whole empire around it? On the one hand, I say “bravo to you,” Missoni, for making us all think that you did something most grandmothers who knit can do. Your jeuvos are grande.

But on the other hand, would it kill Missoni to be a bit more diverse? Maybe punch it up with say, oh, I don’t know, how about a nice, well-done solid color knit? But nooooo, you can’t do that, can you Missoni? And now, all fall and winter, we’re going to be gagging from all the Target-acquired Missoni clogging up the DC streets. Great. Thanks. 

Old people. Rocking Target Missoni. Look how happy they are with their bargain! Mo'money = mo'Fixodent.

To be fair, something I rarely strive for, there are a few cute things. I saw some thin headbands I thought were kinda fun. And there are a few houseware items I wouldn’t throw out, including some groovy vases.

Oh crap – that 70s vibe is already sinking in. Ugh. Guess I better break out the rust-colored, corduroy bell bottoms.