Over Presidents' Day weekend Laura and I decided to celebrate our nearly annual tradition of getting a hotel in the Twin Cities and taking a little break. We usually try to find a good deal for something nice, but this year we really went with the budget route.
I booked a five star hotel with Priceline's name-your-own-price feature to get a really nice hotel at a really cheap price. After going on a free Summit Brewery tour, we spent the weekend using gift cards and Groupons to eat out and relax on a budget. We had a very nice time and I got some great workouts in--unfortunately I also got a reality check at one of our relaxation appointments.
We had purchased an hour massage with a Groupon and we were both looking forward to some relaxation. After spending an hour getting a nice, relaxing massage, I headed out of the room to tip the massage therapist. She was standing by the counter and asked me, "so, are you a runner or something?"
Immediately my chest puffed out a little as I considered what lead her to this conclusion. Was it my taught and muscular legs? My slim trim and utter lack of body fat? Perhaps she could sense my incredibly slow heart rate as I fell into a deep state of relaxation. "Yes, I am a runner," I replied, as I waited for her to reveal which of my many many runnerly traits lead her to this knowledge.
"I thought so when I saw your toenails," she said.
Oh, right. My black, thick, sometimes falling off toenails. "Don't worry," she said. "I run too. I get it."
Laura was a little horrified that I let this poor woman touch my feet, but the massage therapist was nice about it.
It's been a week since our relaxing weekend and I believe my pride has recovered somewhat. I'm struggling to run as many miles as I'd like to, but at least I putting in enough mileage to keep a couple of toenails black.