There's a midget standing tall and the giant beside him about to fall
It seems like once every few weeks I have trouble running. I don’t know why, and it usually isn’t on Monday, the first run of the week for me. It is usually on like a Tuesday or Wednesday, and no matter how much I try to get into it, I just can’t. Last night was the example, though I ended up having a good excuse by the end. I'd run Monday & Tuesday up to 3 miles, very good runs.
I rented the movie “Brick.” Read good reviews, was all excited. Got on the treadmill and after about 5 minutes, I started looking at the time. This is a bad sign. I usually start looking at the timer when it is at 23 ½ minutes, when I only have a few minutes to go. And I didn’t stop looking at the timer, or, more accurately, I started looking at it every 30 seconds. I even covered it up with my towel, and then kept using the towel to wipe my brow and sneak looks at the timer.
And then the belt started squeaking again. This is probably the most annoying thing, as it squeaks into a high pitched squeal that drowns out almost all the sound from the TV (I watch most movies with subtitles on as I can barely hear anything as it is when running with the regular sound of the treadmill and a 215 lb guy running on it [by the way, as of this morning – 215 lbs!]). So now I’m running, looking at the timer and hearing only a loud squeal and the pounding of my feet on the treadmill.
And then my new running shoes, using them for the third time ever, started rubbing and formed a small blister on the ball of my right foot. So I am there running, staring at the timer slowly ticking away with my ears hurting from the shrieking noise coming from the engine with my right foot hurt and I’m trying to run a little different to relieve pressure from the ball of my right foot and my right thigh muscle starts to hurt because it is unnatural to run this way.
And then 30 minutes FINALLY came. Only 2.68 miles after a week of hitting 3 miles, but really, who cares at this point? I just wanted to get off that wretched treadmill and spray some belt dressing on the squeaking belt and take of those damn shoes and listen to sweet, sweet quiet.
And smoke.
I really wanted a cigarette. But my heart has been racing for some reason when I'm at rest. Just strange little flutters that make me feel unnatrual.
I flushed the final 4 down the toilet, so no more of that nastiness.
I rented the movie “Brick.” Read good reviews, was all excited. Got on the treadmill and after about 5 minutes, I started looking at the time. This is a bad sign. I usually start looking at the timer when it is at 23 ½ minutes, when I only have a few minutes to go. And I didn’t stop looking at the timer, or, more accurately, I started looking at it every 30 seconds. I even covered it up with my towel, and then kept using the towel to wipe my brow and sneak looks at the timer.
And then the belt started squeaking again. This is probably the most annoying thing, as it squeaks into a high pitched squeal that drowns out almost all the sound from the TV (I watch most movies with subtitles on as I can barely hear anything as it is when running with the regular sound of the treadmill and a 215 lb guy running on it [by the way, as of this morning – 215 lbs!]). So now I’m running, looking at the timer and hearing only a loud squeal and the pounding of my feet on the treadmill.
And then my new running shoes, using them for the third time ever, started rubbing and formed a small blister on the ball of my right foot. So I am there running, staring at the timer slowly ticking away with my ears hurting from the shrieking noise coming from the engine with my right foot hurt and I’m trying to run a little different to relieve pressure from the ball of my right foot and my right thigh muscle starts to hurt because it is unnatural to run this way.
And then 30 minutes FINALLY came. Only 2.68 miles after a week of hitting 3 miles, but really, who cares at this point? I just wanted to get off that wretched treadmill and spray some belt dressing on the squeaking belt and take of those damn shoes and listen to sweet, sweet quiet.
And smoke.
I really wanted a cigarette. But my heart has been racing for some reason when I'm at rest. Just strange little flutters that make me feel unnatrual.
I flushed the final 4 down the toilet, so no more of that nastiness.
posted by Mike at 10:15 AM
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