MaineToday.com and The Maine Switch compiled a Winter Health & Fitness Guide that went live online this morning. We work well together like that.

Karen took on the spa - because your feet could use some serious attention this time of year. (Forget that "no one sees them but me' nonsense. No matter how thick those socks are, we can still hear their cries for help - albeit muffled.)

Avery rounds up some locally made lotions and whatnots that'll keep the winter itching to a minimum and support our fellow Mainers to boot.

My contribution to the effort was a piece on staying active in the winter. Of the three of us, I'm the most likely to shirk the chill, bundle with fleece and run outside.

I didn't say I do it often. But my sporadic outdoor jaunts still happen to make me the "athlete" of the trio. (Yea, I laughed at the thought too.)

But I was enthusiastic enough about winter running to make a pair of screw shoes a few weeks ago.

Yes, "screw shoes" sounds funny. It sounds like the athletic girl's version of those stilettoed, knee-high boots that are often referred to by another name that I can't use in this blog. (Our company's being sold - we're trying to keep the language on the up and up. At least until the dust settles.)

For someone who's slipped, crashed and otherwise harmed myself on a devilish patch of ice, running in the winter can be a daunting idea. So when I got wind of these here screw shoes (thanks to Ian Parlin of Trail Monster Running who spoke at Maine Running Company last year) I decided to give them a whirl.

The concept is simple: Get some screws. Put them in the shoes.

The screws have a crampon effect, making a slip and tumble on the ice a least somewhat less likely. The downside is they're quite slippery (and floor damaging) when worn indoors. So don't wear them indoors, even though you think they make a nice taping sound and you fancy you might have a Gregory Hines-level of tap dancing talent.

I had intended on running the Polar Bear 5K last Saturday with my screw-free shoes, but I procrastinated the registration and the race filled up. "Oh, darn" I said when I heard I'd missed the window of opportunity. But I was partially relieved.

I wanted to run jog it, but I also didn't.

Instead, a friend and I opted to volunteer at the event (she - being the noble sort - had offered her bib number to her brother who had also failed to register in time).

Perks to volunteering at road races:

1. You get to say things like, "Have a good run" and "Unfortunately you didn't register in time for a shirt. I'm very sorry. It's out of my hands. Please stop scowling at me like that. OK, here, you can have mine."

2. When the starting gun goes off and everyone starts running, you get to hang back and not run.

3. You not only get to cross the finish line, you get to hang out at it and high five every runner (or at least try). If someone could come up with a clappable pair of gloves for winter run spectators, that'd be lovely. Clapping in wool mittens is kind of a let down.

4. If you think ahead and dress in running attire, you can linger amongst the runners after the race and everyone will think you just ran that 5K, 10K or Iron Man too. Only you will know the truth, but folks like us aren't bothered by a wee bit of innocent trickery, right?