Track vs. Treadmill
In these crazy rainy days of summer we New Yorkers have been subjected to the past few months, and especially last week (when even my frackin bed was rained on), outdoor running has become more perilous. I relied on my gym quite a bit those last few times, and grew to appreciate the differences between tracking and treading my runs.
In the past I had always been chained to treadmills during my brief runs I would sandwich between the elliptical and the bike. It felt safer to control it all with a finger: dial up my speeds for short runs, and splice fast walks in between. If I was feeling extra ambitious, these restorative in-between walks would involve inclines. And I could watch all the VH1 I wanted.
Now that my runs are more purposeful (and thank goodness for that) I’ve learned to appreciate running outside, with the more pleasant distractions and chances for the mind to wander. Most of all, though time and distance and my guesses at them are always taking up serious mental real estate between those unavoidable glances at the iPhone stopwatch, I can avoid a constant ticking timer.
On the treadmill last week, those numbers killed me. Sure, I got to watch It’s On With Alexa Chung and Dating in the Dark (that was a good one, ABC, check it out), but they merely hovered above that slow slow neon tick. I could never pretend whole minutes had passed since the last time I looked. I’d be lucky if a second did.
On the other hand, I think this gym time improved my pace. Maybe it was being without the track for a while, or the treadmill itself, but I felt faster and better during that Saturday night run. Maybe I just felt more free.
