Treadmill

II.I

That had nothing to do with a treadmill.

I promise that I'm trying to keep this story moving. I swear that I'm trying to make everything make sense when nothing makes sense to me anymore. I guess I lied before. I didn't fall off of a treadmill today. I fell off of a treadmill months ago, back when everything in my life was different in a terrible and wonderful way.

Back when I was still me.

But that's fine. You want to see me fall off of the treadmill. I would too, honestly. Watching someone fall off of a treadmill has to be one of the most entertaining things to see. As long as the person falling off of the treadmill isn't yourself.

Wait. I just watched it again. I lied. It was pretty funny when it was me.

Just not at the time.

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Done. Tired. Ready to go to bed.

The first two weeks of the semester had simultaneously flown by and slugged along as if they had nothing better to do than to lay in bed all day and pretend like they were sick. Rebecca had dozens upon dozens of tiny check marks in her little yellow-and-white striped daily planner. She had completed at least thirty homework assignments, ten quizzes, and four papers in the past two weeks, while juggling her 38-hour work weeks and trying to make time to hang out and catch up with Celeste.

Saturday morning brought the opportunity for Rebecca to finish off the week strong: with a good workout that would make her muscles sore but the rest of her have some sort of energy for the rest of the day. So far in the semester, she had accomplished her goal of working out six days a week, without missing a week. Granted, there had only been two weeks of the semester so far. But she had done it for those two weeks.

The fitness center at Clemson was larger than Rebecca pictured being at most universities, and she refused to spend money on a gym membership when the on-campus gym was free and offered most everything you could need for cardio, weight training, and stretching. The only problem was occasionally running into people she had classes with, but Rebecca was pretty sure they didn't even recognize her. People rarely did.

Rebecca turned on her headphones and connected them to her phone before stepping on the treadmill. 11:13. Thirteen minutes later than she had wanted to arrive at the gym, but at least she was there at all. She started the treadmill at a walking pace. 3.5. A brisk walk, but a walk nonetheless.

The treadmills were all lined up on the side wall, facing away from the rest of the gym. But every other treadmill had a mirror in front of them, and Rebecca had happened to pick one that had a mirror, so she could see everyone walking around and working out behind her. She could see the three guys waiting for one of the seven squat racks. Five guys and two girls currently occupied them. One of the girls was squatting at least 200 pounds. Rebecca felt a slight twitch of pride in her chest for whoever that girl was.

She could see the girls flipping through textbooks while their legs moved quickly on the elliptical. She could see a guy curling fifteen-pound dumbbells while the girl next to him curled tens. She could see a girl from one of her graphic design classes on the stair stepper. She could see everyone doing their own thing, somehow deciding that in their most likely hungover state they wanted to workout on a Saturday morning more than anything else.

Three minutes into her workout, Rebecca started turning up the speed on her treadmill. 4.0. 4.5. 5.0. 5.5. 6.0. 6.5. 7.0.

She stopped the increase at 7.4, keeping herself at a decent run as "Holding Out for a Hero" blasted through her headphones. All she could think of when she heard the song was obviously the movie Footloose, and that movie made her remember being at home on Saturday nights with her parents, which was simultaneously a happy and sad memory. Happy because she loved her parents. They were two of the most incredible human beings Rebecca had ever met. Sad because she remembered how her Saturday nights had only ever consisted of being with her parents. Sometimes Celeste, but not often. Celeste had always been more social than Rebecca, going out on the weekends and actually being around people her own age.