A JOURNEY IN RUNNING, LIVING, LAUGHING AND LOVING

The dreadmill

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

As I left work today, preparing for my run, it was raining. Not just a light little rain, but a fairly constant rain. So, in my infinite wisdom (okay, that's a lie, I just didn't want to short out my iPod), I decided to go to Ladies Fitness Zone to run on the treadmill. 

Now, I prefer to call this instrument of torture, the dreadmill. 

I have never liked treadmills. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that I should never be on a surface that moves at a high rate of speed and could easily toss me off it at the stub of a toe. Or, maybe it's the fact that I don't run at a consistent pace and I'm constantly forced to speed up or slow down when I don't really want or need to. Or, maybe it's the fact that I cannot STAND being in the same place while moving. Literally. Can't. Stand. It. 

So, off I went to the gym and the dreadmill. I had to run 50 minutes tonight. Well, I had to Run/Walk 50 minutes. And boy, did I take advantage of that walk part of it. 

I don't know what it is. I LOVE running outside. I like running on tracks. I hate the dreadmill with serious, serious passion. 

A mile in, I stopped to walk for a minute. Stupid dreadmill. Why does it feel like I've run so much farther on there? I decided to do some speed work instead just to vary the up the horribleness of the run. So, I'd run hard for five, jog for five, walk for one, run hard for four, jog for four, walk for one... you see the pattern. 

It felt like the longest 50 minutes of my life. 

Why, why, why does time slow down when you're on the dreadmill? Seriously, is there a reason why the minutes feel so much longer on there? At one point, I honestly thought, "Thank goodness there are only 60 seconds in a minute and not 100, because I could not possibly run 40 more seconds." 

Long story short, I survived, obviously, but not without some serious mental b****ing first. This makes me slightly concerned for the winter, when there will certainly be days I cannot run outside. 

Freakin' dreadmill. 

1 comment:

  1. I had the distinct pleasure of finding out that you write a blog, so I decided to check it out. You are a very talented young lady/writer. But I cannot forgive the fact that you are not a dog person. Nothing is more wonderful then getting tongue kisses from a dog. At lease they are happy to see you when you get home from work. Now if only we could love each other that way...unconditionally. But I digress. I love your writing style, and I look forward to reading your blog as often as you post.

    John a/k/a Uncle Yanamooshki

    P.S. If this comes through twice I screwed up when posting. :(

    ReplyDelete

 
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