Fortunately, that all changed.
As I hopped on, I told myself 5 miles. Then, it was 4 miles...5 miles if I'm "feelin it". This got me to thinking about the stages that I go through when I'm on the treadmill. They're eerily similar to the 5 stages of grief.
- Denial - "Treadmill runs aren't so bad. I don't have to worry about weather, getting smacked by a Buick. If I want to go up a hill, I can go up a hill. If I want to run a 9:15/mile pace, I can just set the timer. No guesswork. It's actually pretty nice."
- Anger - "Jesus, I've only been running for 2 miles???!!! I think this @#$%@#@ timer is broken!"
- Bargaining - "OK, maybe if I just run 4 miles, I can sneak in 2 miles tomorrow (normally an off day) and call it even. I mean, I'm recovering from (cue echo) the most ferocious cold known to mankind.
- Depression - "This sucks. My legs hurt. My back hurts. I look like an idiot running in place. My iPod shuffle is not shuffling the way it should be. I'm never going to make 13.1 miles at this point. I don't have anything to write about in my blog. Ugh."
- Acceptance - "Well, hell. You've gotten this far. You only have .5 miles left. You've pretty much done it. Just read the closed captioning on Oprah and get it over with."