After my last run I was looking forward to doing a longer run today, so I leapt out of bed and donned my kit full of enthusiasm. Looking out of the window I realised it was spitting, so reached for my cap, but by the time I was out the front door the rain was coming down by the bucketful. Running in the rain is really bad for my vertigo, but rather than put off altogether, I decided that I could do my run in the gym instead.
Now I started my C25K programme in the gym last August, and for the first 6 or 7 weeks was convinced I would never run outside. However, since then, following one outdoor run with my daughter, I haven't attempted another run indoors, having enjoyed the great outdoors so much more. But surely, running is running...
Nah...
First of all I needed to clean my running shoes which were coated in a thin film of mud (ok maybe not so thin), which I know Mr Bannatyne would not appreciate.
Next change from my long leggings into capri pants and a vest (it's relatively warm in the gym).
Then find the car keys... and Bob's your uncle.
Getting started on the treadmill was fine - 5 minutes of walking and I was off to a good start. But as I upped the pace into my first 17 minute run I soon realised that those creepy little gremlins had accompanied me into the gym (no idea how they got through the turnstile as it takes me forever to remember my pass code). So although there were no niggles, no puddles, no cars whooshing past, no annoying airplanes, no fallen logs, there were also no daffodils, no crocuses, no birds tweeting, no fields, hedges or dog walkers. I was BORED... and the gremlins kept reminding me how boring it was looking at the same poster telling you how to book a session with a personal trainer.
So then I looked down at the console of the machine to see how long I'd been running for. Had the machine broken..? Had those gremlins been up to no good..? I checked with my watch, but it was true. I'd only done 10 minutes, and it felt like much more. I watched the seconds tick slowly over, and decided to look up (back at that poster), and maybe gaze around the gym.
After what seemed like 20 minutes I was beginning to wonder if Sami Murphy had gone to sleep and forgotten to tell me to slow down and walk, but I was only up to 16 minutes and I had another minute to go.
After an agonising 60 seconds at last she gave me permission to slow it down for a minute.
And then the whole charade started again. Not only was I in a parallel universe with an altered time-space continuum, I'd had my stamina stolen from me. I was tired, in fact I'd only got 10 minutes into the 2nd interval of 17 when my body told my mind I couldn't go any further.
And the trouble with that damn treadmill was that it didn't matter if I stopped. It wasn't like running outdoors on a loop, when if you stop you know you have to walk the same distance home anyway, so you might as well keep on running. So that was that. Howard Jones was telling me he'd like to get to know me well, but I'm afraid I just stopped the treadmill and stopped him too. Enough was enough.
And to top it all, there was no Mr R to provide me with my water, cup of tea and breakfast.
My how those gremlins must have been giggling to see me so defeated...