I just had to share what my wonderful weight loss motivation group calls a “WOOT”.
Today, I used the treadmill for my warm up. I said “Five minutes, moderate pace, don’t push it, just warm up.” I hadn’t run since last Tuesday. *creak*
Uh huh. A freakishly skinny man in short-shorts and these crazy-looking neutral shoes stepped onto the treadmill beside me and started it up as I was walking. He immediately began loping along like a greyhound. I felt like a tiny, dumpy chihuahua popping along beside him, and suddenly felt very, very slow. So, I increased my pace, jogging, then slow running. He increased his so that he was no longer a greyhound, he was in full-on Gazelle Mode. Again, I felt slow.
Finally, I topped out at around 6 miles per hour (6.1 or .2, I can’t remember), and it was not-quite-comfortable, but I was not gasping for breath and praying to the patron saint of dorky gym-goers to keep me from doing a mighty fine faceplant. The enduro-champion beside me was leaping and bounding away, barely any sheen of sweat on his serene forehead. I, on the other hand, was beet-red in the face, sweating. I had forgotten how NOT flattering a bright yellow shirt is in artificial light, when sweating.
Oh my… I’m not there to be pretty, I could care less, but wow… I was a hot mess. Literally.
I was thankful my phone was on my person, and not on the treadmill. I hate being attached to the treadmill by my ears. It unbalances me. The sound your earbuds make when they unceremoniously pop out of your ear as you move back too far is really not fun, and if my hand ever caught the cord, I seriously think I would do an Olive Oil jazz hands impersonation as I
swan dove belly flopped towards the floor.
So I don’t tempt fate and wear it in my SPI Belt.
Anyways, where was I? So scatterbrained today… Right. WOOTs!
When I saw the ticker hit 1 mile, I slowed down, realizing I had blown my five minute warmup out of the water. Seriously. WTF was that? As I looked at the screen, I stopped the treadmill in dumbfounded shock.Yellow-shirted, red-faced, gaspy, sweaty slack-jawed shock.
I would have taken a picture, but its really frowned on to do that in a gym, and there was an agitated man behind me waiting to take my machine. He was already drenched in sweat from standing on the super-tall stair climber. Only men ever use those, I never see women on them. I think they like it so they can look down girl’s shirts (Not trying to insult, dudes… Those machines are creepy! Why you gotta be so tall?).
I had gone 1 mile in 13:23. let’s convert that for the Canadians, shall we? 1 mile = 1.6 kilometres. 6ish Miles per Hr is 9.6 km per hr. Wow. Speedy for me, when I was hoofin’ it. Really speedy. My normal “forever speed” is between 7-8 km per Hr.
Now, outside, I can do 2k in 15 minutes, so really, this is no PB, not really. But, on a treadmill, when I have no actual feel of distance, I tend to be butt-#@$ slow. I also walked for 3 minutes before my competition had jumped up beside me. So take that for what it is… I had ramped it up, yo.
I felt fast today, and this is a very good thing.