I hate treadmills.
Not in the "Well, shucks, I'd really prefer to run outside!" sort of way, but in the "THIS OBJECT OF SATAN COULD NOT BE ANY MORE MIND-NUMBINGLY MENIAL I FEEL LIKE SISYPHUS AND 80 PERCENT OF THE GYM'S TELEVISIONS ARE AIRING SOAP OPERAS AND THE TWO THAT AREN'T ARE SHOWING FOX & FRIENDS HOW IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MOTIVATE ME TO RUN IN PLACE FOR 20 MINUTES?" sort of way.
In an ideal world, I'd always be able to find a shaded path deep in a forest, running parallel to a clear, blue river. And the sun is shining, and there's just a general ambiance of chirping birds and squirrels chasing each other and maybe even a deer and some forest friends to sing Disney songs with.
A dusty treadmill in a loud, humid gym is literally the opposite of that.
I cannot think of anything more monotonous than running in place on a rotating Pernival belt, hooked up to some red emergency STOP band like I'm part of the Matrix, squinting to read the 6-point font closed captioning for Judge Judy on a 20-inch television screen 40 feet away.
Even if I zone out and play my three favorite running songs on repeat for what feels like 15 minutes, I look down and it's only been 3 minutes and I've only gone 0.3 miles. Then I decrease the speed down to 1.5 mph so I can cry softly and walk at the same time.
(Speaking of demotivating, I actually spent 15 minutes drawing a picture of a "Soul-Suck-A-Tron 9000" treadmill screen, and it didn't save properly on my computer. So the evil powers of a treadmill extend far beyond the gym.)
BUT.
But.
I still needed to run. And while facing 18 degree weather and bitter, sub-zero wind blasting snow in my face sure sounded appealing, I don't own the proper workout clothes to face it.
I've completed two runs on the O'Brien Fitness Center treadmills, each two miles long. There's signs of hope, too; Tuesday's run was 40 seconds faster than Sunday's. I'm hoping Wednesday's is even faster.
Surprisingly, I'm still alive, and I'm pretty sure I still have a soul.
RUNS: 5/68
MILES: 7/270
In an ideal world, I'd always be able to find a shaded path deep in a forest, running parallel to a clear, blue river. And the sun is shining, and there's just a general ambiance of chirping birds and squirrels chasing each other and maybe even a deer and some forest friends to sing Disney songs with.
 |
| Artist's approximation. |
A dusty treadmill in a loud, humid gym is literally the opposite of that.
I cannot think of anything more monotonous than running in place on a rotating Pernival belt, hooked up to some red emergency STOP band like I'm part of the Matrix, squinting to read the 6-point font closed captioning for Judge Judy on a 20-inch television screen 40 feet away.
Even if I zone out and play my three favorite running songs on repeat for what feels like 15 minutes, I look down and it's only been 3 minutes and I've only gone 0.3 miles. Then I decrease the speed down to 1.5 mph so I can cry softly and walk at the same time.
(Speaking of demotivating, I actually spent 15 minutes drawing a picture of a "Soul-Suck-A-Tron 9000" treadmill screen, and it didn't save properly on my computer. So the evil powers of a treadmill extend far beyond the gym.)
BUT.
But.
I still needed to run. And while facing 18 degree weather and bitter, sub-zero wind blasting snow in my face sure sounded appealing, I don't own the proper workout clothes to face it.
 |
| Pictured: Appropriate workout clothes. |
 |
| Boom shakalaka. (Note that the 2.8 mph was my cool-down pace. I'm not THAT slow.) |
Surprisingly, I'm still alive, and I'm pretty sure I still have a soul.
RUNS: 5/68
MILES: 7/270
No comments:
Post a Comment