As I sit and listen to the rare rain falling outside I’m reminded that winter is truly on its way! Which makes me happy the treadmill lives with us now.
It needs a name. Maybe in my moments of creativity I’ll find one.
Lately, I’ve forgotten that there are real trails and roads out there to run. I’ve stayed on the treadmill, gradually increasing my time. My most noticeable feat to date is I ran 20 minutes without stopping. Yes, it was the slowest pace possible, but it’s done.
To slap myself in the face I re-ran a previous weeks shorter timed run outside. Failure. There’s a significant difference between running outside and running on a dreadmill. I had to re-start the last run several times before I had any luck finishing the time.
How can you run for 20 minutes and finish, but can’t finish a short (3 min, 5 min, 3 min 5 min r) and not make it through the last run?
Simple. You’re accustomed to running, inside. So, Learn. To. Run. Outside. It’s taxing. But it feels delightful. Even if you do watch your shadow while running and determine that really, to the rest of the world, you’re only speed walking. Snicker all you want from that couch of yours, but I’m out killin’ it!
Keep talking to yourself as you run. I occasionally yell as if I was a third person I was trying to motivate.
“Come on! You’re kidding me! COME ON!” (I’m not normal and run on country roads or in my house so you judge someone else.)
The truth never leads to disappointment. And you always have more moxy than you know.
That sounds like a good dreadmill name to me.