Learning to Like the Girl in the Mirror

Body image and the unhealthy way Americans handle it is an issue I've been trying to figure out how to write about for quite a while. It's a touchy subject, one that we as a society often choose to ignore, although the havoc it's been wreaking for several generations is something that isn't going anywhere until we figure out how to deal with it.

Some people place the blame on the fashion industry with their tiny sample sizes and skin-and-bones teenage models. Some look at airbrushed Hollywood starlets with personal chefs specializing in fad diets and personal trainers on call. Both are part of the problem, but so are we, your average members of society. We've put the fashion and film industries on a pedestal and look at them as things everyone should aspire to, devoting our lives and our bank accounts to attaining the current definition of physical beauty.

It's an unhealthy outlook, and it's not okay.

I've struggled with my own body image for most of my life, whether because I grew up chubby in bikini-clad, Hollywood-obsessed Southern California or just because I'm a product of my generation, I'm not sure. I don't remember when or why my body started to bother me, but by the time I was in middle school it seemed like something that had always been.

I started my first diet - The Zone - when I was twelve, and although after a few months I was probably healthier and certainly skinnier than I had ever been, I didn't feel any better about my body. I look back at pictures from that time now and wonder why. Between dance and marching band, my weight stayed fairly stable through my first year of high school, but after that I started to gain weight, every pound feeling like another albatross around my neck, and my self-esteem began to plummet.

Sure, I was smart and articulate and mature for my age, a talented musician, a steadfast friend, a good daughter - a well-rounded, generally nice person. But my body was ugly, so what did it matter?

In class, I never sat with my feet on the floor, balancing just my toes on the ground to keep my legs from looking fat. After middle school, I stopped wearing shorts. Ever. Department store dressing rooms became my personal version of hell, and clothing sizes the demons that haunted me. I nearly broke down in tears two hours before my junior prom because my dress was beautiful, and my body was ruining it.

That was the year I'd started to hate my body with a desperate virulence that festered in the back of my mind, always whispering in my ear. If there was just some way to make that extra weight go away, I'd be so happy. If I could wear a bikini, all would be right in my world. The month before that junior prom, I ate as little as possible. Breakfast was a SlimFast shake. So was dinner, if I could get away with it. I ate the fruit and sometimes the string cheese my mom packed me for lunch, and handed everything else out to my friends - with teenage boys around, someone was always hungry. My caloric intake was probably less than 900 calories a day, a number that makes me cringe now, because I know how unhealthy it is. And still, I hated myself as I zipped up that beautiful dress.

In January of my senior year, I got on a scale. I don't remember why, because I usually avoided them like the plague. The number it registered, while nothing that would elicit more than a shrug and a recommendation for moderate exercise from pediatricians used to dealing with serious childhood obesity, finally pushed something home: wishing and starving myself were never going to make me either thin or comfortable with my body, and I was going to keep hating myself until I tried some other way to get there.

Not much of a revelation, but since I was done with marching band for the year and had some afternoons free, it got me to the gym a few times a week. At first, it was loathing for my body that drove me. Directing all of that frustration, disgust and anger at a machine was better than having nowhere to put it.

Still avoiding scales, I didn't notice a change in my body until I went - reluctantly, dreading what I might find - to try on my junior prom dress to see if I could wear it again to my senior prom. I couldn't - it all but fell off. I bought a new dress in a smaller size and felt pretty for the first time in years. Digging through my closet, I found that I fit into a lot of clothes from my freshman year - including the formal black dress my mom had made for my concert band's spring concert that year. I wore it again to my senior concert, and although I was still self-conscious, that desperate hatred had retreated.

When I went to the doctor for my pre-college physical in August, I'd lost 13 pounds since that awful day in January. The number on the scale was still frustrating, but after a few months away from the demons in my head ranting about sizes and weights and fat, I had the perspective to recognize it as a personal victory.

The next hurdle was college, and the dreaded freshman 15. I was terrified of that phrase, and vowed that I absolutely would not fall victim to it. I spent thirty to forty-five minutes at the gym three or four evenings a week, and by the time I went home for Homecoming in October, I'd lost another 10 pounds. By the middle of my sophomore year, I'd lost an additional 25 pounds and was wearing the clothes I wanted to, in sizes that were SoCal-acceptably small. My cardinal rules were a) that the number on the scale had to drop a fraction every time I went to the gym and b) strictly limiting myself to 1,000 calories per day (one of the most widely-accepted minimums for what it takes to keep a body more or less my size functioning is 1,200) was a good way to lose weight. I compared myself to everyone around me, and if I wasn't among the thinnest girls in the room, I was uncomfortable.

I panicked when I lived with a host family while studying abroad. If someone else was cooking, how could I keep track of how many calories I was consuming and keep the self-loathing monster in my head at bay? I mentioned my worries about gaining weight to some of my new friends. One of them said "Do your clothes still fit?" "Well, yes, but..." "Then what are you worried about?" Perfectly logical, but it took me by surprise and left me completely without a response. I had always avoided talking to anyone - with the occasional exception of my mom - about how I felt about my body. Now that the issue was at least partially out in the open, it suddenly didn't seem like quite the deep, dark secret I had always felt it to be.

That moment wasn't a magic bullet. It didn't make me see immediately that the way worries about my weight lurked behind my every thought was unhealthy. But it stayed in the back of my mind and when I was being so ridiculous about how I looked that even I was sick of myself, it helped me turn away from the mirror and go on with my day. It wasn't until I had been running seriously for several months and had to drastically overhaul my eating habits in order to not pass out that the way I thought about my body really began to change. Gradually, I was able to acknowledge that it was never going to be healthy for me to be rail-thin, because I'm just not built that way. And as I began to view my body more as a functional tool than a display window, I realized that what I looked like was secondary to how I felt.

I weigh more now than I did at my thinnest in college. I'll probably never be entirely comfortable with how I look in a bikini. I still sigh into the mirror sometimes, or fret over the fit of a piece of clothing. But I accept what I see when I face that mirror and a fair amount of the time, I like it. I understand my body better and rather than struggle against it, I listen to what it's telling me. I don't count every calorie I put in my mouth anymore, I don't skip meals and I don't obsess about the number on the scale (in fact, I generally don't even get on one except once a year at the doctor's office). I eat sensibly and stay active, and both my mind and body are stronger than they've ever been. I intend to keep them that way.

I've come a long way from despising that girl in the mirror because all I could see were her flaws. But I know there are too many women (and probably men, as well) out there who can't see anything else in their own mirrors. They starve themselves, exercise with nothing in their systems to burn and mentally compare themselves to cover models, thinking they should be able to look the same, even without professional photography and airbrushing.

The beginnings of an outcry for average-sized models are rattling around the fashion industry, and some actresses are asking magazines not to airbrush photos of them. But until we, as a society, can accept that health and Hollywood's version of it are not the same thing, we're going to continue raising generations of self-loathing women who spend their lives agonizing over numbers on a scale and scraps of cloth. Rather than what will make us healthy, we're told what will make us look better. Rather than seeing ourselves as we are, we're pressured into looking at ourselves through the lens of someone else's body and someone else's definition of what's attractive. Rather than being encouraged to be comfortable in our own skin, we're encouraged to be prettier, thinner, better. I don't know how we succeed in changing that, but I know we have to start by changing the conversation. I hope that sharing my own struggle with that girl in the mirror will move us just a little bit closer to being able to do so.

Take your workout outside: Part IV

Since I'm running 21 miles this weekend, it seems like a good time for Part IV of this series, focusing on off-the-road tips for current and aspiring long-distance runners. These will help keep your body (and your morale!) in top condition.

1. Get your body the nutrients it needs. As a former obsessive calorie-counter (who still obsesses about it sometimes), I have to tell you that you can't worry about eating too much if you're in serious physical training - especially the first time you're training for a long-distance race. Your metabolism is increasing, you're exercising significantly more and your body needs extra fuel to handle everything you're putting it through. If you don't eat enough, your workouts won't be successful. Period. If you're used to counting calories, use a tool like mapmyrun.com to track how much you're burning, so you know how many extra calories you need to eat. There are all kinds of complicated formulas for figuring out the perfect ratio of carbs to protein to fat for runners, but I just listen to my body. I carbo-load the night before a long run, usually with an obscene amount of (whole grain) pasta. By the time I get out of the shower afterward, I'm usually craving either a cheese omelette or a burger, which is my body's way of telling me it needs protein to rebuild the muscles I spent the last few hours tearing up. When I get hungry again, it's usually for something carb-y, because my body's realizing that I pretty much depleted those stores, but I try to toss in some type of protein too. I'm eating less this time around than I did the first, but still significantly more than I was in January, when 20-degree weather kept me inside most days.
2. Sleep tight! One of the keys to a good run is a good night's sleep beforehand. Running 14 miles on Saturday isn't going to be much fun if Friday happy hour lasts till midnight. (Not to sound like your mother, but alcohol in general is not the runner's friend in large quantities - it's dehydrating, and you're not going to run well if you're hungover.) Everyone's needs are different when it comes to sleep - I function best on seven or eight hours to begin with, so when I'm training hard I try to get eight or nine hours a night. My social life suffers, but my body is much happier!
   
3. Psych yourself up to avoid psyching yourself out. New distances are daunting, and no matter how ready your body is for them, a mental freak-out can trash a workout before you make it past mile 1. There are certain numbers that just sound scary (10 and 20 were the worst for me, the first time around), even if they're only a mile or two more than you've done before, so it's best to prep yourself mentally to keep your head from getting in your body's way. Something I started doing at about eight miles last year - and continue to do now at 16+ - was to mentally review my route a couple of times a day for a day or two before a long run. As mentioned in Part III, I generally map my routes at mapmyrun.com before I run them. That gives me a visual, and since the site lets you view maps in street view, satellite view or a combination of both, you can pick the visual that helps you most. I like "hybrid view" - the combo of street and satellite - and use it to remind myself where both on-street turns and physical landmarks will be. That way I can say, "Okay, when I cross that path to the marina parking lot, I'll be at six miles. When I hit the end of the airport fence, that's nine. That water fountain by the memorial is 12," etc. Keeping a general outline of your run in your head - whether it's in the style of an actual map or turn-by-turn directions - can keep your brain focused and let your body do what it already knows it can.
4. Listen to your body. Even for avid gym-goers, an intense outdoor regimen will put more strain on your body than it's used to, and you need to learn to listen to its cries for help in all areas. The most basic of those is fuel, as mentioned in #1. Then there's physical stress and injury. I can't imagine a training program ever being 100% discomfort-free, but if you pay attention to the low-grade aches and pains, they're less likely to become full-blown problems or injuries. If something hurts, figure out why. Most of the time you can probably do it on your own with basic rest, refueling, stretching, icing/heating and poking around on the web for information. But if it's been a week and nothing is helping, see a doctor - one who specializes in sports medicine is probably the most helpful if you're sure the issue is directly related to your training. Sometimes, a symptom you think is normal turns out to be a chronic problem (keep reading for an example) and you need to take unexpected steps to reverse it.
5. Give your body a break. My average weekday involves 10 or more escalators, which I generally pound up and down as fast as I can, one to two miles of walking, which I tend to speed-walk since they're part of my commute, and some 9.5-pound weight lifting when Nala decides to dash out the door every time I come in. Kitty-lifting aside, all of that adds up when you're running 35+ miles per week for months on end, and there are days that I leave for work feeling like I'm all but hobbling, my legs are so tired. I'm not a particularly patient person, but since I try to do #3, above, I make myself stand still on escalators (on the righthand side only, in D.C.!) when my legs are screaming at me to give them a break and pull my walking pace back to more of a stroll. And although it doesn't seem like much, it helps, and my shins especially thank me for the difference.
   

Okay, the example promised in #3: I coasted through most of my first round of training, both mentally and physically. Yeah, I was sore off and on. Yeah, I had some miles when variations of "Why am I doing this?" played on a loop in my head. Yeah, I spent (post-long run) Saturday afternoons collapsed on the floor, reading, watching movies, icing my knees and shins and stuffing my face in my quest to reach a net calorie count of at least "zero" for the day. And yeah, my social life was close to non-existent for a few months. But for the most part, it was pretty easy going.

Until last September, when I'd been training continuously for six months, and my calves started cramping up when I wasn't running. I'm not prone to muscle cramps in my legs, but I assumed it was just because I was reaching the peak of my training, and my body was tired and more than ready for the tapering-off portion of Operation: Run a Marathon. But when I woke up crying in the middle of the night (yeah, really - and I kind of wanted to scream, too) from a particularly painful spasm in my left calf that just wouldn't let go, I stopped thinking it was normal or would "just fade." I poked around on running message boards, WebMD and my best friend's knowledge of animal nutrition (more of veterinary medicine applies to people than you might think!) and figured out that I probably had a potassium deficiency.

Too much potassium can kill you (I'm sure that's been featured on at least one crime-scene drama), so supplements are hard to come by and a bad idea anyway. I researched potassium-rich foods, then stocked up on spinach, bananas, potatoes - it's the skin that's really rich in potassium - and the low-sodium V8 my boss' wife's doctor had recommended when she had a similar problem. And it worked! A few days after starting my effort to flood my system with potassium, the cramps eased up, then disappeared, and I was able to run my 23-miler, my longest training run, pain-free.

I'm back at the most intense month of training (this time for Rock 'n' Roll Seattle), and once again, my calves started getting tight after workouts, but this time I knew what to do. I'm stocked up on spinach and potatoes, alternate between orange juice (450mg of potassium per 8 ounces!) and low-sodium V8 (it's disgusting, but it works) and snack on raisins most afternoons. And guess what? I haven't woken up in pain even once!

The bottom line for successful long-distance training is to be smart, be safe, stay up-beat and keep your eyes on the finish line. Because when you get there? Baby, it's worth every step.

Take your workout outside: Part III

I had intended for Part III to be the last of the "Take your workout outside" mini-series, but since it's devoted to tips for people who want to try their hand (well, feet) at long-distance workouts, which tend to affect all aspects of your life, it would be an extremely long post! So I've divided it into "on the road" and "off the road" tips - let's start with on. (N.B.: Running is the only activity I do at the long-distance level, so these tips are specific to runners, although I imagine a lot of the same things apply for cycling, swimming, etc.)

1. There's no penalty for trying. (This is more off-the-road, but I think it's an important place to start.) "Building your base" is the first step to training for a long-distance race. It's kind of like pre-training - you want to get your body comfortable with more mileage, both at one time and on a weekly basis, before you start the core of your training, where your mileage shoots up at a rate that an unprepared body wouldn't handle well. I started building mine in March 2008, when running October's Marine Corps Marathon was still just something I thought I might want to do. I set up a training plan all the way through to race day, but started out with the idea that I'd just see how it went, and if I hit a point where I didn't feel my body could handle any more, that would be okay - at least I'd have tried!
   
2. Fuel up. We've already talked about hydration, but if you're going to be out for longer periods on a regular basis, you'll need energy, i.e. something edible, in addition to water. There are tons of products made for this - energy gel shots are the most popular but they gross me out, so I use Jelly Belly Sport Beans. Always err on the side of taking too much with you until you're sure of your body's needs. Personally, I need to eat about half a pack of Sport Beans (~50 calories) every five to seven miles on any run 10 miles or longer. If I don't, the effects of my blood sugar hitting rock-bottom are unpleasant, as I learned last summer when I had run out of Sport Beans prior to my first 14-miler and thought a 90-calorie Special K bar would be sufficient. I could barely stand up when I got back, spent my shower shaking uncontrollably and sitting down every two minutes, and had to sip at watered-down apple juice for half an hour until I felt like I could successfully get some much-needed food into my system. Ever since then, I keep a supply of Sport Beans handy. (If you find yourself in a pinch, I have a friend who swears by chocolate chips as training fuel. I think it's gross, especially when they melt, but whatever works!)
   
3. Cheer yourself on! Long workouts can be as exhausting mentally as they are physically, and I can't begin to tell you the number of goofy things I've done to keep myself going on long runs. Last year, when I was running further than I ever had before just about every other week, being able to make myself laugh - usually at myself - or smile was key. After watching the women's marathon at the Beijing Olympics, I got into the habit of narrating my long runs in my head - pretending it was a professional race, and I was the sportscaster. Ridiculous, but it kept me going. Mostly because thinking of what to fill in and making up facts about my running "career" and my fake opponents kept me distracted, so that I didn't focus on the distance left to go. I don't generally need to resort to that sort of thing anymore, but keeping your brain busy during those first really long workouts can be the key to your success in completing them.
4. Pay attention to the weather. (This was a toss-up between on and off the road, but since it affects you most when you're on, it wound up here.) We work pretty hard to keep the weather from affecting us when we're indoors, but there's no climate control when your workout is outside. I regularly use weather.com's "Hour-by-Hour" feature to figure out when is going to be the best time of day for a run based on projected temperature, windspeed and chance of precipitation. You'll find your own comfort zone for outdoor workouts - I'm most comfortable in the 45-70 degrees Farenheit range. Stepping out of that zone isn't bad, but don't subject yourself to extreme temperatures if you can avoid it. In the fall and winter, I envy people who can run on their lunch hours in bright daylight and warmer temperatures, but in the summer I find myself suppressing the urge to dump a bottle of water over their heads and another down their throats. Sure, heat makes you sweat more and that's what some people want. But going out at noon when the sun is at its most intense and the temperature is starting to soar is not a particularly smart choice. Around noon, you're more likely to be sunburnt, you're more susceptible to heatstroke and dehydration, and you'll deplete more of your body's nutritional stores, particularly your electrolytes (basically, salt - potassium and sodium being the most common in the human body). Try to be flexible with your schedule, and don't put your overall health at risk for one workout.
5. Know where you are. MapMyRun.com is a (free!) lifesaver of a website that lets you plot out every step of your route on what's essentially a GoogleMap you can draw on. (MapMyRide - for cyclists - and MapMyFitness - for any type of workout - are basically the same thing, although you can track any type of workout in each of the versions.) Since distance matters when you're training for an event of a specific length, I map my routes before I run them whenever possible. This also means that if I want to know where certain miles (or every mile) hit on my route, all I have to do is check my map before I go. Then when I'm on the road, it's easy to track pace and distance, and - most importantly - to know when and where to turn/turn around. Getting lost or not being sure where you are when your feet are your only means of transportation and you're relatively far from home is not a fun experience, so it's always a good idea to have a firm grasp of your route before you take off. I also find that if I'm not sure of where at least a handful of miles hit, I get poky. When all my watch is telling me is how long I've been out, not what my pace is, I lose the competitive edge that keeps my speed up. (Although really, when you're training for a long-distance race, getting the mileage in is far more important than how quickly you do it.)
6. Experiment! This applies to any number of things, from what you eat before and after runs to how you pace yourself, but the first thing to experiment with is whether you feel most comfortable running with a group, a partner or solo. Most metro areas have running groups, and the best places to start looking for one are probably Meetup.com and your local outdoor equipment store. Groups are great motivators, and if you can't stand the thought of spending a couple of hours alone on a trail, it's definitely something to try. When training for a specific event, charity groups are extremely supportive (Team In Training for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society is one of the widest-spread), but be aware that you'll be required to fundraise a significant amount of money. If groups strike you as intimidating, finding a running buddy or two can give you some company and motivation on your workouts without making you feel overwhelmed. Whether or not you think you'll enjoy it, try running alone at some point, just to see how it goes - you may be surprised. I started out training solo because the idea of people seeing me sweat and pant my way through a run was mortifying, but I assumed I'd team up with a group once I got into the longer, more demanding portion of my training. I quickly stopped caring who saw me pounding around D.C. red-faced and sweaty, but I never did team up with a group - I found that I really enjoy running alone, using the time to think or just to relax (mentally, anyway). I occasionally run with either my mom or one of a couple of friends and I enjoy the company and the chance to do two things I love at once (talking too much being the second), but I'm primarily a solo runner.
   

Those are the "on the road" high points when you're running - or thinking about running - long distances! Look for "off the road" long-distance tips (like what to expect from your body when you're logging 100+ miles per month!) in Part IV.

Take your workout outside: Part II

You may remember that in Part 1 of "Take your workout outside" I extolled the virtues of being aware of your surroundings and alerting people before passing them. Well, less than a week after writing that, a cyclist and I put on a spectacular demonstration of why those tips are so important.

A few days after that post, I was out for a six-mile run one morning before work - nothing out of the ordinary, except that traffic on the trail was a little lighter than usual, since it was pretty chilly. I hit my turnaround and - for some completely illogical reason - didn't look over my shoulder before starting to turn, as I usually do. I glanced over as I was turning instead, and saw a cyclist roughly two feet behind me, coming fast. It was one of those moments when everything seems to freeze, and you think "Oh, this really can not be happening."

Unfortunately, it really was. Bikes move faster than you might think, and two feet doesn't give you much more than a second of reaction time, during which I tried to scramble out of the way but happened to choose the same direction in which the cyclist tried to veer to avoid me. My attempt to jump back the other way might have been successful with half a second more, but by that point, the collision was inevitable. In a few more seconds of slow-mo fun, I felt the bike hit me, mostly on my left side, finished getting out of the way, watched the cyclist wobble, tried to grab for him as he fell and missed. He ended up on his back under his bike (which, fortunately, had a light frame), and when I went to help him up, I saw that his head must have hit the trail as well, since his helmet had split. Yikes.

Once we got his bike and the pieces of his helmet off the trail, there was a spate of, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, are you okay?", "I'm so sorry, I should have looked sooner, I don't know what I was thinking," "No no, I should have let you know I was passing," "I'm so sorry, I feel terrible. Really, are you all right?"

Neither of us was injured to the point of not being able to keep going, but I think we each walked away feeling like it was our fault - I know I did. One moment of carelessness, and forgetting to do something I've done hundreds of times before, and I was stiff and sore for days and left with a couple of bruises that still haven't completely faded. I've been keeping an eye out for the cyclist, hoping to see him again and reassure myself that he's okay, but no luck so far. Here's hoping we've just been out at different times lately.

On that note, here are a few more tips for outdoor workouts - and hopefully you take my advice better than I do!

1. Watch your feet. Or the road, I guess, if you're cycling. Either way, the point is that you're no longer on a stationary machine, you're out on a road or trail that gets beat up by feet, tires, wheels and tree roots, and it's not going to be obstacle-free. I know the route between my apartment and the trail I run on so well that I can (and sometimes do) run it in the dark, but whenever I'm on a new route, I keep the road in my peripheral vision, so I don't end up flat on my face. Even if you do know the route, pay attention when it's wet or particularly cold - trails can have slick spots, and tend to freeze more quickly than streets, since they don't get the heat from car engines. And bridges freeze the most quickly of all, so keep an eye out for ice!
2. Take it easy. Any workout that's longer or more demanding than you're used to - whether because of distance, hills or significant changes in temperature - is going to take more out of you. By giving yourself a little bit of a break and reducing your speed, even just a fraction, you'll avoid burning out and won't have to deal with that dragging, I'm-exhausted-why-did-I-come-this-far-and-how-much-longer-till-I-get-home sensation. Longer distances are tiring at any speed, of course, but if you take it easy the first time you go out for a more demanding workout than you're used to, you'll have a better idea of how your body handles it for the next time. If it was really tough to finish, despite slowing down some, try something halfway between your usual workout and the new, challenging one a few times - when you tackle the challenging workout again, you may find it's gotten easier. If you finished with energy to spare, great! - next time, you'll know you can pick up the pace without worrying about burning out.
3. Smile! Amateur athletes, especially runners (although I may be biased!), are a friendly bunch - it must be all those feel-good endorphins running around in their bloodstreams. So if you make eye contact with a fellow trail-user, smile, or say hi. And there's the habitual "runner wave" - just a lift of the hand and/or a nod of the head meant to acknowledge the other people panting and sweating out there with you.

Next up for Part III: some tips specific to long-distance training!

Take your workout outside: Part I

Now that spring has sprung, you may be thinking about getting out of the gym and taking off for a walk or a run where the scenery changes, and the cool air on your face isn't from a noisy fan. Please do! Being outside is one of the reasons I love to run (and hike, and go to the beach, and kayak...), and it comes with some great benefits: vitamin D and that fresh air your mom always insisted you needed more of, for starters, not to mention the fact that it's free!

But there are some rules of the road you need to be aware of - namely that what applies to cars generally also applies to people - and since learning them the hard way from cranky cyclists and speed demon runners can be off-putting (not to mention embarrassing and a little scary!), take note before you take to the trail:

1. Slower-moving vehicles, stay to the right. Just like in a car, faster runners, cyclists and walkers will pass you on the left, so keep to the right unless you're the one doing the passing. And when you do pass, throw a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure there's no one even faster behind you (you don't want to veer out in front of a cyclist who was about to zoom past you!). If you're exercising with a group, don't walk/run/cycle more than two abreast - it blocks the way for others, it slows your collective reaction time and it's just rude to anyone else out there with you.
   
2. Keep it clean. Despite the thousands of paper cups you've seen runners discard during races, throwing anything on the ground is not a habit to get into. Races, since they're sponsored and generally very organized, despite the apparent pandemonium, have clean-up crews that make sure no litter remains on the ground after the race is over. Trails do not, and they don't even get the weekly street sweeper pass that regular roads do. I've found myself picking up energy food/gel wrappers on the trail the past few weeks (some of which specifically ask consumers not to litter!), because I know otherwise they'll end up in the river, in birds' nests or in squirrels' mouths. It's like backpacking: take out whatever you bring in, or dispose of it properly somewhere along the way!
   
3. Mind your manners. Since people don't have rearview mirrors, it's common courtesy to alert someone when you're going to pass them - it also lets them know to move to the right, if they haven't already. You'll hear a lot of "On your left!" and "Passing!" from cyclists, or sometimes just the ding of a bell. I usually say thanks, or lift a hand to acknowledge I've heard them, because I appreciate it - the cyclists who don't make the effort and whiz past three inches from my elbow when there's an entire lane open next to me drive me nuts (approaching bikes aren't audible the way cars and panting runners or walkers are, especially not if there's vehicular traffic nearby). Runners can use the same expression, although usually the sound of your shoes is enough of a warning. When off the trail and approaching pedestrians wandering around the middle of the sidewalk, I say "Coming up on your left!" to give them a chance to move out of the way. (Sometimes it doesn't work and they just stop to turn around and give me a surprised look, but at least then they're stationary.)
4. Leave the music at home. Say what?! I know, I know, iPods are the greatest accessory invented since running shoes, but they're best left for gym workouts. If you have music turned up loud enough to hear it over your feet and your breathing, you're much less likely to hear approaching athletes - or attackers, on the less pleasant side of things. You're also far less likely to be the recipient of the courtesy described in #3, since if people see headphones or earbud wires, they'll often assume you won't hear them anyway and decide to save their breath. That said, a lot of people use them anyway, although I never do.
   
5. Be visible. Reflective surfaces and LEDs are your friend, especially if you're out early or late in the day. My birthday present from my mom was a bright greenish-yellow neon windbreaker that's water-resistant and has reflective strips at the shoulders and back. The thing all but glows and I love it, because I can see people wearing similar gear from a quarter mile or more away, so I know it keeps me visible, even before sunrise or after sunset. I also have a neon armband with a flashing LED embedded in it from my brother and sister-in-law that's great when I know I'm going to be running in the dark - the LED is an extra layer of visibility that's particularly good at alerting fast-moving cyclists (and cars, when I'm crossing streets) to my whereabouts.
   
6. Protect yourself. This is a big one, and covers a number of areas. At the most basic level, it means don't forget you're outside. Eye and skin protection are a must, and are more important the longer you're going to be out. On another level, this one means be aware of your surroundings, which is part of why #4 is a good idea. Especially if you're out early in the morning or after sunset, when there aren't as many people around, you need to keep your eyes and ears open for suspicious activity. Unfortunate as it is, some criminals think athletes - especially lone women - are easy prey. The experts all recommend carrying some form of identification - Road ID is a good one that comes in several different forms, and which I keep meaning to buy. I'm not great at that particular safety tip and often forget to take an ID with me, but when I do think of it, I usually stick my SmarTrip (Metro card) in a pocket or waistband. It's registered to me, so if I'm unconscious someone can look up the card number and find out who I am, and it's also emergency transportation back home if I need it.
7. Hydrate! If you're exercising, you need water. Period. Until you know your body well enough to be absolutely confident in saying, "Oh, it's only x miles, I can rehydrate when I get back," take a bottle with you. There are all kinds of contraptions to make it less of a hassle, from fuel belts to hip packs to hand-helds. I know I'm fine without water for eight miles or less (six or less in hot weather or if I'm not feeling 100%), but on long runs of 10 miles or more I take at least a sip per mile - and I've had ample time to figure out what my body needs.
   

Those are the high points for someone just getting started on an outside exercise plan - more specific tips to follow! Like any fitness routine, the best rule of thumb for making sure you stick with it is to follow your ideal schedule to the letter for at least three weeks (relying on the general wisdom that it takes 21 days to make or break a habit) before skipping or shortening a workout, no matter what.

If you've rarely or never exercised outside before, you may hate it initially (I definitely missed the gym, at first), but give it at least those three weeks before you run back inside for good. Some people just aren't "outdoorsy" and will always prefer working out indoors, some people love outdoor workouts from the start and some will become converts after several tries. Give it a chance, and find out what makes you feel best.