I have never been able to figure out why people run on treadmills. They don’t have roads or paths where they live, maybe? Running on real roads doesn’t build muscle or increase stamina? They don’t want the environment? I don’t know.
I love running. And when I think of running, I can close my eyes and see the landscape rushing past and I can feel my feet hitting the ground and I can see the faces of people and I can feel the heat sear through my lungs and the cool breeze kiss my skin, driving my insane brain to run on.
Why would I run if I didn’t want to get some place? And that’s what beats me about treadmills. You run and you stay where you are. Seems like an awful waste of good energy to me. And I’d say that would make people mad. Which explains why I have never seen a happy face on a treadmill – and I have observed quite a few.
But that was before. Now I know why people run on treadmills. It’s like being trapped in something you have to do for a particular purpose and not because you really want to do it. Like being in a job you don’t like, but you do anyway because you must earn a living? Something like that. Earlier when I saw someone on the treadmill (people mostly grimacing their way through a chore for the sake of health) , I could never identify with them. But it’s pretty much like getting up in the morning on a weekday, dreading what lies ahead. You gotta get ready and go to office and keep plugging away at some mountain of work for a paycheck at the end of the month … and you keep doing this every day, every week, every month… and your life stays exactly where it was.
When I meet someone who’s working with a smile on their face, I know they’re not on a treadmill. That’s a runner on the beach, feeling the wind on their skin and the sand in their feet as the surf rushes gleefully forward to meet them.
I used to be on the beach.
