Treadmill

I.I

I fell on a treadmill today.

Completely.

Catapulted right off of the thing.

And somehow, I think that flying off of that treadmill at whatever the level 7.4 equates to in miles per hour might have made my life a lot better. Or possibly a great deal worse.

I'll start earlier than that, though.

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In. Out. In. Out.

Focusing on her breathing was the only thing that kept Rebecca Eaves from letting her mind wander to other places when she ran. If she let her mind wander, her mind would start to focus on the fact that her legs hurt, and that her chest hurt, and that everything about running hurt. If she let her mind wander, she would be reminded of the fact that she had two pints of Ben & Jerry's Brownie Batter Core ice cream sitting in her freezer that were begging to be eaten, and that eating both of those in one sitting would feel great. Relaxing. Eating. Not worrying about her weight.

In. Out. In. Out.

If she let her mind wander, she would start to tell herself that she didn't need to finish running the five miles to get the reward of a quarter of one of those pints. She would stop her run, powerwalk back to where her car was parked just a mile and a half behind her current position, and drive home, to the apartment she was still in the process of moving into. She would watch Kaylie's disapproving stare as she ate her ice cream instead of unpacking her boxes. She would feel guilty afterwards for eating her ice cream without finishing her run first. So, Rebecca kept running.

In. Out. In. Out.

It was a beautiful day. Early September, two days before the first classes of Fall semester began, and the sun was shining through a soft cloud cover. At 10:12 AM, it wasn't too terribly hot, but the humidity was at 79% already according to Rebecca's weather app, which meant that she was already sweating after a mile and a half of running at a relatively moderate speed. Not a jog, but not quite a run yet. Somewhere in between.

In. Out. In. Out.

Rebecca kept moving halfway between jogging and running. She kept going, one foot in front of the other, focusing on her breathing, until the time on her Fitbit read 10:38, and she had made a five-mile circle back to the parking lot outside of the furniture store half a mile outside of the park she ran in when she didn't feel like going to the gym. She unlocked her car door and climbed into the driver's seat, taking a sip of water before pulling out her phone to check her text messages and disconnect her wireless headphones. She had a text from Kaylie waiting for her. When was she planning on unpacking the boxes? It had been over a week since she had moved in. It was getting hard to walk. Rebecca shook her head and ignored the message, backing out of the parking space and pulling onto the main road to head back home.

In. Out. In. Out.

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"Clemson is so much better than UMD."

Rebecca rolled her eyes as she walked into the kitchen on the evening of the day after Labor Day, her right hand wrapped around a bottle of cucumber water and her left clutching her daily planner. Work had been terrible that night, with old women yelling at her for not accepting their coupons and old men touching her hand for no reason other than to make her feel like taking a bath in the same sanitizer they used to clean the floors. 10:00 had brought freedom, and by 10:38 she was in sweatpants and ready to plan out the rest of her week.