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Three excruciating miles

30 December, 2009

There I was on the treadmill thinking about what I can do to not go completely nuts — it’s not like I was going anywhere else. And it’s hard to describe just how wrong this machine is. On the one hand, nothing is required other than to put one foot in front of the other. There are none of the potential pitfalls and hazards associated with being outdoors: no homicidal maniacs behind the wheel, no dangerous dogs, cracks in the pavement, or extremity-threatening temperatures. But the machine becomes not only an adversary, but also an impediment to the breadth and depth of vision afforded to the unfettered outdoor loafer.

I’m not going to bother trying to figure out why this is so, because I’ve said enough about the damn thing already. But I think that examining the reason why I’ve even found myself on a treadmill in the first place is more useful. Sure, I need to do weights — I can’t find anyone who’ll play hackysack for the time being, and my climbing gym membership expired — as part of my continued development as a runner. But even if that’s true, I could still run (the scenic route) to the gym. And I realized today that the weather is not nearly bad enough to keep me indoors, What it comes down to is that I’m avoiding the outdoors because I’m tired of my routes and it’s time to do work out some new ones.

Three excruciating miles. At least I got some upper-body work in.

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