The cost of being a below-average endurance athlete (besides race fees, bike maintenance, gym memberships, gear replacement costs, twice-weekly produce runs, and lululemon) is pretty feet.
It costs exactly one pair of decently passable feet to run faster than a mere 48% of folks in an endurance race four times a year. In its simplest terms, this past running season boils (gross) down to: 4 medals for 3 toenails (which is better than 1:1 in my favor so — success, right?). As temperatures rise and sandals begin to look more appealing (on some people, anyway), I’ve been suffering major anxiety about how to proceed through this most awkward growing-out phase. In running seasons past, I’ve just started spring with the brightest, most opaque nail polish available and directed my skeptical pedicurist to please use their remarkable artistic skills not on a rhinestone-centered daisy, but rather on painting a nail where there is none. Mona Lisa, Starry Night, and My Right Second “Toenail:” All profound works of art wrought with incomprehensible talent.
This season, though, has been costlier both in terms of the number of nails lost and the degree of the loss (chipped, damaged, dangling, or flat gone). Instead of just paining over the atrocities and stepping boldly out with the emperor’s new nails, I’ve decided to give them a chance to actually regenerate. I’ve enlisted every relevant re-growth tip on Pinterest (and ironically pinned them to a board titled: Beauty), and I’ve amassed a menagerie of home remedies including (but not limited to): apple cider vinegar, Vick’s Vapo-Rub, tea tree essential oil, rubbing alcohol, and pinot grigio.
I’ve been really trying not to feel too self-conscious about how terrible they look since I’m very happy about what I got in exchange, but it’s tought because they truly look wretched. Until I saw this slide show on Style Blazer detailing all my Sisters with Blisters.
Iman, bringing bunion back. When people say “I love my curves,” you mean to tell me they’re not talking about their big toe knuckle? That’s the most curvaceous part I’ve got. I look like I’ve had a Brazilian bunion implant. At least some guys are into it. I mean, she got Bowie with those talons, though likely not literally. Thanks for standing (however painfully) in solidarity, Iman.
Katie Holmes, celebrated (or at least actual) fellow runner. See, she’s got all the time, money, and access to professional pedicurists in the world and she still made the list, totally upping her cred as a runner. Unless of course terrible feet is some Scientology tenet I don’t know about (like all Scientology tenets, actually).
Serena Williams, one of my Nike Running Coaches (via her downloadable album on iTunes), and also some kind of clothes designer/tennis player or something.
Oprah, utterly infallible. If she can’t beat the bunion (“And YOU get a pedi, and YOU get a pedi, and YOU get a pedi), it can’t be beat. It’s like her book club: I couldn’t beat it so I just joined.
Paris Hilton, demonstrating why exactly the stars went blind. So she’s irrelevant now, has been for years, and was trashy at her best. At least I know I could still ostensibly get bottle service on Sunset with these feet.
Christina Hendricks, offering an opposite end (and infinitely less sexy) alternative to Princess Leia’s “double bun.” It’s a wonder those don’t knock together. And I’m sure that’s not the first time she’s heard that terrible, terrible turn of phrase.
So prance proudly, fellow runners, and when someone asks you “Why are all of your toenails pink except that one purple half?” refrain from taking them on an Instagram tour of your medal wall, and just let them know that when it comes to pedicures,
No nail is totally the new nail.