It's getting personal with me and those Precor treadmills - they are like Gillian - FORCING the two minutes of uninterruped running, rather than the more nurturing Life Fitness treadmill - aka "Bob" - who lets me work at my own pace. Anyway, if I want to be a runner (and when the hell did I decide THAT was a goal anyway?) I need to run, and occasionally that means being forced to.
So I'm hopping on the Precor and pounding it out - two minutes at a time, aiming for 2 miles in 30 minutes - and I can actually do it! Last night I had to jack the treadmill up to 6.0 mph at one point to make my split time....now THAT was a whole new level of discomfort, but it made everything else seem like meandering. And I'm sure that's what caused me to fall asleep in the bathtub an hour later.
Interesting characters at the gym yesterday: Unitard Woman was there again, more appropriately attired in a singlet, shorts and do-rag busily working through her man-pushups and scribbling notes in her log book. The Woman With the Goofy Pigtails Who's Always There - well of course she was there! And no workout at the community rec centre would be complete without Street Clothes Guy. Last night's version was wearing a golf shirt, good jeans and lace-up oxfords - he tried out EVERY piece of cardio equipment - when we were driving away I actually saw him jogging on the treadmill in his dress shoes. And there was this sweet chubby older woman waging her own war with the Precor beside me - a dead ringer for the mother in law complete with long silver ponytail - chugging along at about 2.5 mph, towel draped optimistically around her shoulders. Go Grandma!
I worked really hard last night and, funny thing, the harder I worked, the harder I WANTED to work - because it just felt so damn good. Still got a lot on my mind (hopefully to be settled soon) so it's really good focus on the body...