One time I was staying at my parent's house by myself. They have a treadmill in the basement, conveniently parked in front of a nice TV/DVD/VCR combo.
Yes, I said VCR.
At about 8:00 PM I was craving coffee, so I made a pot.
I drank it.
At about 10:30 PM I was bouncing off the walls. So I headed downstairs to the treadmill.
I dusted off the cobwebs. I turned on the TV. I fired up the ol' gal.
I turned up the volume on the TV.
I found myself watching Storytellers on VH1 - Green Day edition.
I started running.
My legs suddenly felt a little jellyish. I looked down to see what was the matter. On their way down, my eyes happened to glance at the treadmill's screen.
65 minutes! I had been running non-stop for 65 minutes! What the H???
Now I don't have one of those fancy schmancy gym memberships that all those cool kids have. I stick to running outside for my "kicks." And I'm kind of glad. Ever notice how much harder it is to run outside than it is to run on a treadmill?
Why, cruel world, does it have to be so much easier to run on a treadmill???
Why must you build up my confidence so highly in the gym, when the very next day, you smash it so completely the minute I step outside?
Seriously. I can run, like, 5 blocks before I'm huffing and puffing. I think 65 minutes on concrete would kill me.
And why is that? Why is is so much easier to run inside than outside?
Lack of necessary wind resistance? Adequate pacing? Reruns of Deadliest Catch distracting me from the burning of my lungs?
Please, if you know, enlighten me.
Current Couch Potato | Aspiring Runner:
Completing my first half marathon to benefit the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America will be a community endeavor. Won't you help me change lives?
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