For the first time in a year, I went to the gym over by my work complex. I managed not to hurt myself or make myself sore, but I did come to the conclusion that I was not born to run on a treadmill.
Whenever I got the thing going up to a decent speed, I felt like I was going to trip myself up and fall in a curled up heap to the ground; amusing to everyone else, but not so much me. Running on a treadmill shouldn't be a complicated thing in the least, and isn't for most accomplished bipeds, but apparently, I'm not the most coordinated person in the world, or especially graceful. Heh.
At any rate, I'll have to get used to it if I have any intention (or keep up the illusion I have the intention) on running the NYC Marathon in November. It's too bloody cold to do any running outside.
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