can i have the treadmill in the corner?

what is it about the gym that just brings out every insecurity i have?

i made it back yesterday, after about a week and half off during what can only be described as my “i’m melting down because of stress, and if i have to walk on a treadmill for hours at a time i will most certainly lose the will to live” period.

yay for me, i guess.

but something was different. i was rather looking forward to the experience–going by myself, having time to think, doing something that i really didn’t want to do in the “whoo i love to pour down sweat” masochistic sense but in the “i will conquer this challenge or die trying” inherent stubbornness that can be my trademark.

the experience didn’t match my expectations.

for some reason, it was packed.

(what is it about a gorgeous monday in florida that equals everyone at the gym?)

i wasn’t particularly surprised about that, but i was a bit surprised by how nervous it made me. i felt exposed and stared at for some reason–i couldn’t find my headphones, so i was just on the treadmill with no real distraction other than CMT with captions on a TV that was too far away to really see.  i know, i know. it’s not as if the world revolves around me.

(although it really should.  i AM adorable. and SMART.  have i mentioned the SMART?)

and who can really think when there is the drone–and i do mean mind-numbing drone–of hundreds of machines going? i mean really?

i didn’t think much of anything except “must.get.out.of.here.NOW.” and “how fast can i actually go before dying so that i will have to be here less time?” (the answer? 3.7–and that’s walking, because walking is what i’m training for. i was pretty impressed.  don’t burst my bubble if that’s pathetic, okay?) and “thank you, tiny blonde one, for being as sweaty as i must also be.”

i stuck around.

that’s really all i can say.

i finished the dang three miles.

and, you know? some days, when you’re feeling gross and sweaty and not cute at all and the size of the goodyear blimp on a treadmill in a room full of people who don’t really seem like they could be remotely described as any of those things and you think they’re staring at you thinking exactly that even though that’s completely and totally irrational and you don’t really want to be there at all but you like your heart better than you like your pride and you really just want to cower and run if it’s possible to both cower and run at the same time and nothing really seems like it’s working the way you imagined it?

some days…sticking with it is all you can do.

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One Response to “can i have the treadmill in the corner?”

  1. …wow. You know, I can’t handle the treadmill/elliptical rooms at Southwest or the Racquet Club. They make me feel incredibly inadequte because I cannot run, and the girls that go in there are like freaking OLYMPIANS with the paces they’re going on those babies. And I cannot do that and it makes me feel bad so I end up sitting in my room, eating a bowl of Lucky Charms, procrastinating on the work I should be doing. So, I’m totally impressed that you went (and stayed), because I sure wouldn’t have. Then again, maybe I’m just a quitter, but that’s a different comment for a different day 🙂

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