When I went to the gym today, there was a slot of about 10 minutes when I was, literally, the only person in the gym. There were no other people working out, and the staff were all off somewhere else, and I thought, “I’m going to try to do something amazing.”
I was on the treadmill, and I was at an incline, and I just sort of… upped the speed. I was doing a 15 minute kilometre – 4km/h – (yeah, my gym works in km, I don’t know why!) and I bumped it up to a 10 minute kilometre – 6km/h – which is not huge, but for me it is. It’s a whole 2km/h faster than I usually walk.
In my head, I was laughing. I was holding onto the treadmill for dear life, and in my head, I was laughing, but good GOD, I just couldn’t keep up! It’s been so long since I’ve jogged that it took me a second to remember how to, I swear. My legs almost came out from under me.
I figured out, however, that my body is not made to run or jog on a treadmill. I didn’t break the treadmill, which is great, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even jog.
I was laughing, though, because I gave it a try.
I think, if I want to jog or run in future, I will wait until I’m a little fitter/lighter (LESS MASS, my physics teacher would have said, not LESS WEIGHT. LESS MASS.) and then I will take to the streets.
But, you guys, I tried. That’s the important thing. I tried!
I wonder what I looked like, holding white-knuckled onto the treadmill while trying to remember how to make my legs move fast enough to call it a jog.
I’m not entirely sure, but the mental image is enough to make me laugh. Again and again.