Going Nowhere Fast
From Tuesday, 10.31.2006:
After running errands Tuesday, we had time to hit the gym before getting home to have the porch light on for trick-or-treaters. J swam and I dragged myself onto a treadmill.
No, that's not exactly true. We got there a little after 5 p.m., when apparently everyone else gets there too. There wasn't an open treadmill in the whole place. I sighed, climbed on a bike, and started spinning. Wow. Every time I think treadmills are boring, I should remember that stationary bikes are way worse. Then give thanks that I'm a runner.
Fortunately, our gym has the bikes set up in front of a big window, so even though all the treadmills were behind me, I was able to watch the runners via their reflections in the glass pane. An interesting study in form, posture, and body type.
After about 10 minutes, one guy finished up and I snagged his machine. Already warm, I was glad to go right into tempo pace. Three flat miles. :26.
I really, really dislike treadmills. It's so much more pleasant to run outside. This time of year though, after the time changes and there's no daylight after work, it takes careful planning to run a safe route after dark. Too often I end up on a treadmill because I forgot to bring the right reflective equipment when leaving for work in the morning, or because I failed to scout a safe residential route, etc. It's often just easier to go to the gym and get the prescribed miles logged on a mill.
A typical treadmill run thought process:
This isn't so bad (thought during the first minute).
Damn, there are still 25 minutes to go.
I am bored.
Ok, I will watch the display scan through my information. I have now gone 0.13 miles. Burned 16 calories. Going 8:44 min/mile. Time elapsed: 1:15. Scan starts over. Now I have gone 0.15 miles. Burned 17 calories. Still going 8:44 min/mile. Time elapsed: 1:20.
Ok, this will be like watching grass grow. Or paint dry. Or...what are other analogies for describing slowness? Ah, like waiting for water to boil. For Christmas to come. Like molasses.
I will just look forward and not glance at my display scanner until I feel like five minutes have passed. I wonder if I'll be able to make it?
Of course I didn't make it. Crap. I looked after only 45 seconds.
Ok, I will put my towel over it. That'll show me. That'll teach me to look.
Run. Run. Run. Bored.
Ok, I will practice concentrating on correct posture. I am imagining that I am dangling from a string that runs vertically through my spine and up out the center of my head. Back is straight. Chest is slightly out and shoulders are relaxed. Head is up. Good strides. Mid-foot strikes are good. Heel strikes are bad. Run with knees over feet. Follow through for good toe-off. Elbows bent, hands loose.
There is no way I can concentrate this hard on form for the next 23 minutes.
I wonder if someone somewhere else is on a treadmill at this very moment wondering if others are somewhere in the world wondering if other people are out there wondering about other people on treadmills. What if we could switch, like in Freaky Friday. No, no, no, no, don't think that thought because they might think it too, then it will really happen and I'll have no idea how to get switched back and I have a good life that I don't want switched out of.
Ok, I need to think of something else to occupy myself for the next 23 minutes.
Oh yeah, dummy, turn on your music.
Thank the goddess for portable music.
After running errands Tuesday, we had time to hit the gym before getting home to have the porch light on for trick-or-treaters. J swam and I dragged myself onto a treadmill.
No, that's not exactly true. We got there a little after 5 p.m., when apparently everyone else gets there too. There wasn't an open treadmill in the whole place. I sighed, climbed on a bike, and started spinning. Wow. Every time I think treadmills are boring, I should remember that stationary bikes are way worse. Then give thanks that I'm a runner.
Fortunately, our gym has the bikes set up in front of a big window, so even though all the treadmills were behind me, I was able to watch the runners via their reflections in the glass pane. An interesting study in form, posture, and body type.
After about 10 minutes, one guy finished up and I snagged his machine. Already warm, I was glad to go right into tempo pace. Three flat miles. :26.
I really, really dislike treadmills. It's so much more pleasant to run outside. This time of year though, after the time changes and there's no daylight after work, it takes careful planning to run a safe route after dark. Too often I end up on a treadmill because I forgot to bring the right reflective equipment when leaving for work in the morning, or because I failed to scout a safe residential route, etc. It's often just easier to go to the gym and get the prescribed miles logged on a mill.
A typical treadmill run thought process:
This isn't so bad (thought during the first minute).
Damn, there are still 25 minutes to go.
I am bored.
Ok, I will watch the display scan through my information. I have now gone 0.13 miles. Burned 16 calories. Going 8:44 min/mile. Time elapsed: 1:15. Scan starts over. Now I have gone 0.15 miles. Burned 17 calories. Still going 8:44 min/mile. Time elapsed: 1:20.
Ok, this will be like watching grass grow. Or paint dry. Or...what are other analogies for describing slowness? Ah, like waiting for water to boil. For Christmas to come. Like molasses.
I will just look forward and not glance at my display scanner until I feel like five minutes have passed. I wonder if I'll be able to make it?
Of course I didn't make it. Crap. I looked after only 45 seconds.
Ok, I will put my towel over it. That'll show me. That'll teach me to look.
Run. Run. Run. Bored.
Ok, I will practice concentrating on correct posture. I am imagining that I am dangling from a string that runs vertically through my spine and up out the center of my head. Back is straight. Chest is slightly out and shoulders are relaxed. Head is up. Good strides. Mid-foot strikes are good. Heel strikes are bad. Run with knees over feet. Follow through for good toe-off. Elbows bent, hands loose.
There is no way I can concentrate this hard on form for the next 23 minutes.
I wonder if someone somewhere else is on a treadmill at this very moment wondering if others are somewhere in the world wondering if other people are out there wondering about other people on treadmills. What if we could switch, like in Freaky Friday. No, no, no, no, don't think that thought because they might think it too, then it will really happen and I'll have no idea how to get switched back and I have a good life that I don't want switched out of.
Ok, I need to think of something else to occupy myself for the next 23 minutes.
Oh yeah, dummy, turn on your music.
Thank the goddess for portable music.
posted by kelly f @ 9:55 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home