I walked with deliberation towards that sexy 'mill, and he flashed me a devilish grin. "You're all mine today, allllllllll mine". I gulped, and stepped onto the deck of that treadmill for the first time in over a week. As I was slowly increasing the speed, my leisurely walk turned into a jog. A very slow jog, but a jog none the less. I wasn't going to get greedy, so I kept the pace that of an elderly woman recovering from open heart surgery.
As the minutes ticked by, simultaneously a glisten of sweat covered my forehead and a smile spread across my face. It wasn't sweat from pedaling on my trainer or the elliptical, sweat from swimming, or sweat from recent hula hooping sessions with Caitlyn (there's a way to find your core - whoa!). It was running sweat! Glorious, sexy, running sweat! If I could have pulled off a cartwheel on that treadmill I would have. For the sake of my hamstrings (and my pride), I chose to continue running.
The elusive twenty minute mark, which is usually the time point that brings me to my knees, passed silently. I continued at my pedestrian pace, never so happy to be running so damn slowly.
When I completed my sweat session, I begrudgingly turned the treadmill off. He begged me to stay a little bit longer, and I said "not today - maybe next time". He was forgetting the cardinal rule of always leaving him wanting more.
I blew him a kiss on the way back to the locker room, he winked back. He knows I'll be back; as much as I bitch and complain about him, he'll always have my heart.
|Even my shoes were happy to see the treadmill!|