Monday, May 19, 2008

Right Now

It was like a scene out of a movie as I began my first workout. I stretched my limbs, cracked my knuckles. shadow boxed and shook my head side to side. I was ready to go. Van Halen conveniently told me when to start, as "Right Now" obnoxiously blared through my iPod headphones when I stepped onto the treadmill.

It was that moment, where I saw the end. Not the end, where I saw myself after all these future workouts. Like the end of my life, as I feared the power the treadmill held. The buttons were numerous and overpowering. It requested more information from me than I was willing to forfeit (but, in order to begin, I had to give in). 155, 2.0, 7.0. What looks like my recent test scores is actually my weight, my distance and desired pace. Yeah, I only wanted to run 2 miles at an 8 and a half minute pace, but its the first day. I could have run more, but then my summer long workout plan would have quickly turned into a 30 minute run, followed by a summer long of TV, video games, and basketball...oh and taxes too (can't forget about the mental workout I will receive from my internship).

As soon as the treadmill started moving, my sense of control was lost. "Right Now" was over, and quickly faded into "Show Me the Way" by Peter Frampton. How fitting was this? I normally only run on a basketball court or through the streets of Cincinnati (when I was on the cross country team as a freshman in high school), and not a machine that controls you completely. I thought a treadmill was easy, but someone needed to show me the way to run on that thing, because I was positive that it would eventually cause my death. I lost balance quickly as I tried looking at the walls or the television, so I just kept my eyes focused on my feet. I was certain I was going to end up on my buttocks, with my back smashed against the wall after being violently thrown from the treadmill, if I did not keep my eyes peeled on my feet and focus on my strides.

After the first mile was over, my iPod changed tunes and sequenced into "Running with the Devil". And that is exactly what I was doing. My legs were heavy and my ankles were hurting from last week's game of basketball when I landed awkwardly after throwing down a power dunk (it was actually between games, and I was just trying to show-off, I would call it skinny-man syndrome as I was upping myself amongst fully grown men).

I was able to successfully complete my 2 miles of running, at the pace I desired. I was pleased to find out that the treadmill gave me a warm down, as I thought the thing would just shut off and I would run straight on into the handle bars. My running was over, control was returned and a sense of relief had overcome me. My iPod continued its streak of fitting songs by playing "Highway to Hell" as I made my way down to the pool...This was not the conclusion of my workout, as I went on to swim laps and do pushups and situps, but those accounts were not as entertaining as my experience on the treadmill.

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