First off, I didn't even want to get up this morning. I drove 600 miles yesterday and put in a 14 hour day. I pulled my tired carcass out of bed and somehow managed to get my workout clothes and shoes on. My car drove itself to the gym and I trudged to the heartless treadmill in Twin Falls.
We know each other well, this treadmill and me. It laughs at my sloth-like pace and uneven strides. It takes no pity on me as my breathing is labored and my muscles beg for more oxygen. This treadmill can only dream of having a svelte, agile young babe loping on it instead of my straining, sweaty pile of worn joints and air-sucking lungs.
The first quarter mile goes by at a leisure pace. I like to start out slow and then back off, you know, the tortoise strategy. After a few minutes my left knee is bothering me and I ponder the thought of hitting the STOP button. I plod on.
After a mile my knee has stopped aching and for a short stretch I feel almost adequate. My breathing is becoming more rapid as I wonder how long I will go this morning. I told myself I would go 4 miles but that might be a little optimistic. Why get in great shape all in one workout?
As I pass the two mile mark I know I won't make 4 miles. I'll just keep going and see how far I get before full muscle failure sets in. I'm distracted by some muscle-heads trying to out-lift each other. Young guys trying to impress the ladies, I used to be one of them. The distraction helps me get past 3 miles.
I bid adieu to my nemesis treadmill and walk out of the gym fully energized and ready for the day. I could have stayed in bed, I could have quit when my knee hurt, I could have done a mile and hit the STOP button. Life always seems to get better when we REFUSE TO QUIT.
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