Tuesday, November 3, 2015

It's So Easy to Quit on a Treadmill

Learned helplessness is the giving-up reaction, the quitting response that follows from the belief that whatever you do doesn't matter.-- Arnold Schwartzeneggar

I hate treadmills. I actually hate them with a passion. I've been a runner for 15 years. In that time, I'm relatively certain, I do not have more than 10 treadmill runs. Nike+ said I have I've 530 runs. That's not including a period when I didn't really track my runs. It doesn't include runs from September 2000 to 2006. In short, I have done lots of runs. The overwhelming majority of said runs have been outside.

There are countless reasons that I hate the treadmill. When I finish, I feel like I had 7 shots of some awful spirit and I am also walking on the moon. I feel restricted. I honeymooned in Marrakech, Morocco and it was mostly desert. In order to get my runs in without dying in the Sahara was a treadmill. By week's end, my hips were sore from restrictive running. There is nothing to look at on treadmills. I don't want to spend 6 miles staring at my ugly mug, or the ugly mug of some dude next to me. The clock and distance on the treadmill haunts me like Freddy Krueger haunts dreams. I can actually hear a digital clock tick... It's creepy.

Even before the first mile all I want to do is get off of that thing. It feels like a torture device. You know when you're a kid your parents make you stay inside as punishment. This feels like punishment. In the 19th century, treadmills were actually used as punishment. As I run on this contraption I continuously ask myself, do I stop now, how about now, how about now?

After 2 times in 2 weeks of wanting to quit on the treadmill and telling myself how much I hate it, I now look at it as a challenge. I once hated running anything over 100 yards. Right now I don't have the stamina or endurance or conditioning to run without honking about tapping out. It is something I must now conquer.

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