The Treadmill

I've been feeling the need to make some life changes lately. Well. Let me start over. I've been feeling the need to make some life changes for a long time now. I've simply never had the motivation to do anything about it. I used to play basketball at our church on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That was good for me. . . however, those days are long gone. They still play, I'm simply too busy. In the last month or so my excuse has been, "I have to go pick up my daughter from kindergarten."

Well. This week I'm staying at a hotel that has a workout room. I had planned to pack clothes to do something while I was here--to use the new environment and the new month as a catalyst for the new me. Unfortunately, I forgot to pack the workout clothes. When I told my wife that on the phone, she ridiculed me a little--which put me into macho mode. I promptly went out yesterday and bought some workout clothes at the local Super Walmart.

After a light breakfast of some orange juice and yogurt this morning, I made my way to the workout room. Picture this--me, a 6 foot, 3 inch, barely under 300 pound ugly walking down the hall to the workout room. Luckily, there was no one in the hall or in the room. They had 4 machines--stairs, an elliptical,a treadmill, and a stationary bike. Unfortunately, none of them had a book holder (like I was going to read while I actually exercised. I was hoping it would distract me from the pain and agony). I once used the stair machine back in the 90s. I remember it not being a pleasant experience at all. So, it was a no. In hopes of reading, the elliptical was also out, since I thought there would be too much for me to think about--big ugly on a contraption that has nothing but moving parts would have meant physical and mental overload. And, the bike just looked uncomfortable (not that anything in the room looked comfortable). So, i chose the treadmill.

The treadmill itself looked harmless. As I stared at it and contemplated, here is the conversation in my head: "I walk. Walking on a treadmill is just like walking. I have complete control of the speed and so on at my fingertips. I might even be able to hold my book and read while I walk. I can do this!" And, with all that mental encouragement to myself, I climbed aboard and pressed the go button.

I started slow at about 2 miles an hour. I know. Rocket speeds for a man of my size. It wasn't too bad. It took a little while to get used to walking on the moving belt, though. If I were a sailor, I would say that I had to get my sea legs on it. After a few minutes, I had two realizations. One, I'm not going to be able to read. I'm just now getting to the point that I can let go of the sissy bar and walk without holding on, which doesn't mean there wasn't a fair share of staggering here and there. It wasn't pretty. (The funniest thing was trying to let go of the sissy bar to take off my sweatshirt without falling off. It took awhile to get the sweatshirt off.) However, realization two was that I could do this, especially since there wasn't anyone else in the room with me. Otherwise, they would have wet their pants laughing and I would have went back to my room.

After a few minutes, I ramped up to about 3 miles an hour. For someone who hasn't been physically active, 3 miles an hour is comfortable, but not outlandish. We continued on for awhile at that pace. Then, being a guy, I had to play with the other buttons. Soon I was walking 3 miles an hour up a 4% grade. Then I went to 5%. At this point I had gone close to a mile. I wasn't feeling too bad. I was a bit frustrated that I wasn't covering distance fast enough. So, pushing more buttons, I went to a 1% grade at 4 miles an hour. That took me to about 1.25 miles. My treadmill legs felt normal. I wasn't staggering too much anymore.

Now, one thing I haven't mentioned. One the opposing wall--the wall I am facing--the hotel kindly put a wall size mirror. I assume this is in place to help encourage the normally ripped bodies that frequent such rooms to push on in their buffing out. For me, the 300 pound goon, not so much encouragement.

By the time I reached 1.25 miles I was frustrated that I was not covering ground fast enough. Plus, at this point I had built up a sweat, but wasn't really killing myself. I ramped up. the 7% incline came first. I had to slow my walk from 4 to 3 miles an hour. Part of that was because I had knocked my phone off the treadmill from the vibrations of my goonly walk up the 7% incline. I didn't want to break the thing!

At this going I was feeling really good--really proud of myself. Being the macho guy, I wanted to finish out well. I wanted to push it up a notch, especially since I still wasn't working really hard where it feels like the vein in my neck and my chest are going to explode from my heart working so hard. And, at this point, I had not felt like I was going to pass out or fallen off the darn thing. I was feeling confident. So, I ramped up to a 10% incline at 3 miles an hour. I did almost a quarter of a mile at this setting. At one point, I tried to look through the sweat that was pouring into my eyes at myself in the mirror. All I could see was this big lurch clodding up the 10% incline--half jogging, half clomping like a scary monster shuffling after his prey. All I could do was pray that no one would walk in the door.

In total I made it two miles in a half an hour. I'm rather proud of myself. I survived. I even pushed myself some. I achieved my goal for at least one day. Unfortunately, I have to do it again tomorrow.

That's the thing with changes. Its not a one time deal and all is well. Its a daily, disciplined thing. Whether its exercise, studying the Bible, or learning to play a sport, you have to constantly be working at it to get improvement and change.