That is a question I sometimes ask myself when trying to decide which form of cardio I prefer to engage in. When trying to make the choice between my morning run out in the woods, or doing my cardio session indoors at the gym later in the afternoon, I must first weigh the risks. When trail running outside, I sometimes will encounter snakes, those horrible, EEEEVIL little creatures that, well… basically just lie there and force you to go around them if you’re lucky enough to see them ahead of time. Or, if they sneak up on ya, you are forced to quite athletically jump over them while chanting a chorus of four letter words at such a high pitch that all the local wildlife stop whatever they are doing to stare at you.

Bees are sometimes a problem as well. Although I have been lucky enough up to this point (knock on wood), I always worry that I might end up perturbing the resident bees while on my run. I’m not sure if there is such a thing as a second wind, as I have never been fortunate enough to experience this wonderful phenomenon, but I sure hope that if I ever do accidentally disturb a bee’s nest, I will be blessed with my first ever second wind. I will need it whilst I run screaming like a little girl back to my cabin.

If it’s not bees flying around my head, it might be gnats, which for some reason like to commit suicide by flying into my gullet. Ack! I can’t even count how many bugs I’ve unwillingly swallowed while running outdoors.

Most of the trails out here in North Idaho are littered with small rocks that can be likened to marbles on laminate flooring. One must tread carefully while trail running, especially downhill, so as not to allow one’s tushie, or any other body parts for that matter, to become unexpectedly acquainted with the ground.

When doing cardio outside, we must brave the elements. The elements could be anything from the burning sun, which can cause skin cancer, or even worse, tan lines; rain, as if running wasn’t hard enough without adding a few more pounds of water weight to your clothing and sticky mud to your shoes; head winds (why does there never seem to be a tail wind when you need one?); hail, (one word: OUCH!); snow, which always seems to creep its way into your shoes and up your pant legs; or humidity, which my tolerance for has greatly diminished since moving to the Northwest. I was much tougher when I was a New Englander.

Speaking of the Northwest, what do you people put in your local dirt that makes it take on the consistency of axle grease when it gets wet? As soon as the rainy season starts, I begin contemplating whether I should head to the local sporting goods store and purchase a pair of cleats to wear on my morning trail run. Holy cow, it’s like trying to run on Vaseline!

And ya know I have the utmost respect for our neighbors to the North. But some American, somewhere, at some time, pissed off the Canadians so much that they invented Canadian Thistle and hauled it down here on their toboggans and let it spread like wildfire. That is some mean-ass stuff! It is probably single handedly responsible for my being dead-vampire-frogbelly-white from the waist down, as I cannot ever run in shorts for fear that I might be needled to death by these ruthlessly prickly little bastards.

But enough of the outdoor cardio dangers. Let’s discuss our indoor cardio dilemmas for a moment, shall we? Let’s just say that if it wasn’t for my iPod, I would NEVER be able to endure indoor cardio. You sit on that stationary bike, stride on that elliptical, or walk on that treadmill for what seems like hours at a time. We won’t even talk about the stair stepper. (I tried that rotten-evil thing once. Other than the one time I attended a Red Sox game back in the days when the curse of the Bambino was still haunting us, time has never moved slower!)

There is never anything good on any of the 50 TV’s at the gym. That is, unless you enjoy watching Championship Poker, infomercials, stock market updates, the weather channel, or on a good day, reruns of NYPD Blue. There really isn’t a whole lot to look at while doing indoor cardio. You can either stare out the window at the traffic rolling by and enjoy the sunshine as is glares off the hoods of the cars in the parking lot right into your eyes, or you can plant yourself in front of the mirror. This at least makes it possible to stare at yourself for an hour straight. Not sure about you, but I can find a whole lot about my physique to become depressed about when I must stare at it for an hour.

The other option is to watch the reflection of the folks out on the gym floor in the mirror. It’s an interesting way to people watch. You’d be surprised at what some people do when they think no one is watching. Or better yet, when they think someone is watching. The things people will do for inflated egos. My body hurts just watching them haul around such heavy weights with such crappy form. And some of the noises they make, no matter how loud my iPod goes, I can still hear what can only be likened to that of an oxen mating call.

Come to think of it, most oxen probably smell better than the guy or gal that thinks it necessary to marinade in cologne or perfume before working out. Come on people! It's hard enough to breath during cardio without the extra added handicap of your spray-on, ego enhancing pheromone juice!

A bit more forgiving, yet more repulsive, is the nice elderly lady who decides that she must go to the gym and burn off all that chilly she ate the night before. No matter what direction I face my little personal elliptical-mounted fan in, I am bombarded with what can only be described as the by product of her post bean overload intestinal retaliation as she reads her magazine and pedals away at snail speed on the stationary bike next to me.

But I think the most annoying thing that one can expect to encounter while attempting to agonizingly stride away those unwanted pounds on the cardio equipment at the gym, is the member that insists that they are so important that they cannot be separated from their cell phone for even one hour while they workout. They stride in slow motion on the piece of equipment next to you as they gab away on their phone a mile a minute. If only their legs would work as hard as their mouths do.

In making my decision as to which form of cardio is the less of the two evils, ‘cause we all know that cardio is a form of self induced torture, I guess it just comes down to which one makes us the least cranky while we are in our carb deprived state. So when I have to choose between elliptical flatulence or swallowing a bug, I’ll eat the gnat anyday. Bon appetit!