J.Nel vs. The Evil Treadmill... Take One.
Action!
So, lately I have been trying to, like, ya know, exercise. I realized that alternating between couch sitting and computer chair sitting is probably setting me up for a heart attack... at 24. So, basically, in order to prolong this heart attack I decided to start walking the 'hood everyday. My neighborhood is really interesting, and in 3 years it is likely to be a haven for trendy hipsters, in the meantime it is awesomely chock full of crazies. But my passion for observing crazies is beside the point; the point of this post is I hate treadmills... not hipsters. (Although I do hate hipsters… I will make that post another day) So, I began walking three miles a day at the turtle speed of three miles an hours. (Hey it's something, rah?) I rock out to some Gorillaz on my iPod and I walk my little ass off up and down the blocks... I actually enjoy the walk, I just kinda hang out with Murdock and the boys and chill.... while exercising of course. Yesterday, while at my parents home, I was given the option of either walking around their neighborhood, or using the dusty treadmill.
I weighed my options.
(1) If I were to walk outside, some cheesey-subburban-snob-asshole I went to high school with may see me rocking some sweat while walking in slow motion. (2) Also, the suburbs suck for calculating miles, I mean in the city I walked 8 blocks three times. 31st street to 39th, 39th to 31st, and finally 31st to 39th. Easy as pie, in the burbs I would probably have to drive my car the path I want to walk to calculate the miles... because I am stupid. (3) I always walk outside, and it never includes watching the TV.
So, those three reasons are what prompted me to walk my three pathetic miles on the treadmill while watching Napoleon Dynamite. (P.S. - This is the worst movie to watch while attempting to be productive. I love me some John Heder, but not when I am trying to be motivated.)
I will admit to be somewhat scared of the treadmill. Once, when I was little I played on one at a hotel and put a hole in the wall. Well, really my elbow put a whole in the wall after I decided to "run as fast as I can!" That bitch threw me clean across the room and gave me the biggest, most painful bruise, ever. It was the treadmills fault, not mine for choosing to be a 10 year old idiot. THE EVIL TREADMILL!
To make this painfully long story short I will tell you this...
I got on the treadmill, and I walked... and itwas horrible. I watched the clock tick the entire time and my thought processes went something like this...
2:12... okay it's 2:12.... 48 more minutes. still 2:12.... 2:14, alright! I missed 2:13 all together. Only 46 more minutes. I should take a break at 2:20... that will probably be a mile, maybe... 2:15!
Although I refrained from actually being thrown from the 'mill, I did trip once and almost loose my front teeth on the handle... Thank God I was kind of paying attention at this point, because if I were lost in thought I would have surely complied with the treadmill's evil plan to rid me of teeth.
So yea, I rocked the evil treadmill and I am still alive. Sure it was mentally painful, I almost lost my teeth and my legs felt like rubber when I got off... I still did it. So, screw you evil treadmill!
aaaaaaaand, cut.
So, lately I have been trying to, like, ya know, exercise. I realized that alternating between couch sitting and computer chair sitting is probably setting me up for a heart attack... at 24. So, basically, in order to prolong this heart attack I decided to start walking the 'hood everyday. My neighborhood is really interesting, and in 3 years it is likely to be a haven for trendy hipsters, in the meantime it is awesomely chock full of crazies. But my passion for observing crazies is beside the point; the point of this post is I hate treadmills... not hipsters. (Although I do hate hipsters… I will make that post another day) So, I began walking three miles a day at the turtle speed of three miles an hours. (Hey it's something, rah?) I rock out to some Gorillaz on my iPod and I walk my little ass off up and down the blocks... I actually enjoy the walk, I just kinda hang out with Murdock and the boys and chill.... while exercising of course. Yesterday, while at my parents home, I was given the option of either walking around their neighborhood, or using the dusty treadmill.
I weighed my options.
(1) If I were to walk outside, some cheesey-subburban-snob-asshole I went to high school with may see me rocking some sweat while walking in slow motion. (2) Also, the suburbs suck for calculating miles, I mean in the city I walked 8 blocks three times. 31st street to 39th, 39th to 31st, and finally 31st to 39th. Easy as pie, in the burbs I would probably have to drive my car the path I want to walk to calculate the miles... because I am stupid. (3) I always walk outside, and it never includes watching the TV.
So, those three reasons are what prompted me to walk my three pathetic miles on the treadmill while watching Napoleon Dynamite. (P.S. - This is the worst movie to watch while attempting to be productive. I love me some John Heder, but not when I am trying to be motivated.)
I will admit to be somewhat scared of the treadmill. Once, when I was little I played on one at a hotel and put a hole in the wall. Well, really my elbow put a whole in the wall after I decided to "run as fast as I can!" That bitch threw me clean across the room and gave me the biggest, most painful bruise, ever. It was the treadmills fault, not mine for choosing to be a 10 year old idiot. THE EVIL TREADMILL!
To make this painfully long story short I will tell you this...
I got on the treadmill, and I walked... and itwas horrible. I watched the clock tick the entire time and my thought processes went something like this...
2:12... okay it's 2:12.... 48 more minutes. still 2:12.... 2:14, alright! I missed 2:13 all together. Only 46 more minutes. I should take a break at 2:20... that will probably be a mile, maybe... 2:15!
Although I refrained from actually being thrown from the 'mill, I did trip once and almost loose my front teeth on the handle... Thank God I was kind of paying attention at this point, because if I were lost in thought I would have surely complied with the treadmill's evil plan to rid me of teeth.
So yea, I rocked the evil treadmill and I am still alive. Sure it was mentally painful, I almost lost my teeth and my legs felt like rubber when I got off... I still did it. So, screw you evil treadmill!
aaaaaaaand, cut.
