Learning to Love the Treadmill

Treadmill [n.]: A torture device perfected in the 20th century, designed to destroy one’s mind through sensory deprivation and monotony

Mark Remy, runnersworld.com executive editor, in The Runner’s Rule Book

Historically, the treadmill and I don’t love each other. I love to run outside: summer, winter and the short months between those two. In fact, I love winter running so much that I wrote this “Ode to Winter Running” around this time last year.

Now here I am, facing a winter, while loving to run, and happening to be 26 weeks pregnant. With my growing baby bump and diminishing sense of balance, running outside on snowy and icy sidewalks has become a risk. I’m nervous of falling. My husband and obstetrician are nervous. So what’s a girl to do? Begin to embrace my treadmill.

My husband gently forced the purchase of a treadmill last Boxing Day after I got hit by a car while running on rainy December morning at 7am. We put it away for the spring and summer but last winter it was convenient during storms and on harshly bitter cold morning and evenings.

I now need to improve it’s ranking from “convenient” to “enjoyable” so that I can best enjoy my running for the last 3 months of my pregnancy. Sensory deprivation and monotony remain key barriers.

I’m making some progress. Here I present to you, the ways in which I am trying to love the treadmill.

  1. Next to my large sunroom mirror, I can look at winter without winter making me cold
    View out a window from a treadmill room

    Warm view of winter

  2. I can stop to put my “MacGuyver-SI-Joint” back into place when it stubbornly slips out of place despite being held tightly in place by a special phsyio SI belt. SI joint is henceforth named “MacGuyver”
  3. I can bring a buffet of candy AND Gatorade on my runs because my treadmill has a shelf. You do not have a shelf on which to place things with you when you run outdoors
    the shelf on my Nordictrack Treadmill

    Handy Treadmill Shelf

  4. Ability to drink as much Gatorade or water as I want from my buffet shelf
  5. Unlimited and easy bathroom breaks without having to leave McKim on standby while I sneakily use a tree or someone’s backyard (note, I am not that stealth)
  6. My hot pink Asics look really hot against the black belt of the treadmill
    Hot pink Asics Speed Stars

    Pink on Black: Hot

  7. I can watch running and New England Patriot videos on my iPhone with supreme sound as my treadmill has an iPod dock and great speakers
  8. I don’t have to worry about how many layers to fit over my baby bump and how I’m going to fit my baby bump into my layers as my running shorts fit below my belly and just a sports bra will do for indoors. I did, by the way, learn this week that my long johns will fit if I wear them backwards: the size small butt being more forgiving than proper orientation for a bump.
    runner on a treadmill

    Minimizing layers

  9. No cars will hit me
  10. I have more evening time to spend at home with my husband as it cuts out driving to and from the track and the socializing that I (enjoyably) do with my training pals
  11. I am enhancing my mathematical unit conversion skills as the treadmill’s units are miles. Likely this is making my fetus smarter.
  12. At 6 months pregnant, I can continue to practice my sport and preserve my character and sanity

Two weeks ago, week 24 of pregnancy, I ran 5 days: 1 at the track, 1 long run outside and 3 on the treadmill. My weekly mileage was only 32km as I suffered repeated treadmill failure due to boredom. Last week, week 25, I ran 4 days with 3 on the treadmill. My weekly mileage was about the same with one less running day as I instituted a new 5km treadmill rule: not allowed off the treadmill until I reach 5km.

Do you have some tricks for loving the ‘mill? Let me know!

Why do you run?

“Why do you run?”

This is a question that I get a lot.  Many runners field this question a lot.

“Why do you want to run during pregnancy?”  This question follows.  Actually, this question is rarely phrased as a question: “OMG, you are still running?!” is what this one often sounds like.  I believe these people are actually asking me why I want to run while pregnant.

So why? Why am I working hard to stabilize my hypermobile SI joint so I can continue to run during my pregnancy?  Why I am I determined to squeeze out as many 15km long runs as possible before I hit 25 weeks of pregnancy, at which point, my obstetrician will cap all runs at 60 minutes?  Why was I thrilled to set a “pregnancy PB” of 47:40 at 20.5 weeks pregnant at the December 9 Heart and Sole Club 10km Race?

The Child Studies class at the school where I work recently asked me to do a Q & A session where students could ask me about my pregnancy.  After speaking about running during pregnancy, a student asked me if I was addicted to running. I appreciate his curiosity and inquiring mind.  People have asked me this before.  People, non-runners, want to ask runners this question.

Running in Rural AfricaIn considering my answer, I have to wonder why people seem quick to equate addiction with running.  What is it that makes their mind make that connection?  Do they ask soccer players if they are addicted to soccer?  Do hockey players get asked as often as runners if they are addicted to hockey? I don’t know the answer to this; I’m not a hockey or soccer player.  But I wonder if there something that is so confusing about distance running that makes people question my sport. To associate it with addiction.

I no longer have a quick or simple answer to these questions.  I no longer need an answer.  And maybe there is no answer that will satisfy the people who ask.

As someone who loves to write, I appreciate other runners’ attempts to capture their answers for demanding crowds.  Here are three that I appreciate most.

The plight of the 2:14 to 2:18 US Marathoner: Why do you do it? by Sage Canaday

You don’t do it for the money. You don’t do it for the fame or glory. You don’t even do it because you think you can make the Olympic team or beat the Kenyans/Ethiopians. So why? Why do you keep sacrificing your time and energy towards something that most of society would consider a selfish and frivolous endeavor? Why do you go to bed early on Friday and Saturday nights in the prime of your mid-twenties? Why do you run 120 miles a week in the cold wind, rain and snow? Why?

Because you can. Because through years of racing and hard training in high school and college you discovered that you had a knack for something. You achieved high enough in one aspect of your life enough to be considered as belonging to the top 1%. You decided to set the impossible goal of seeing how close you could get to your full potential in something quantifiable. And in the process you realized that you are a part of something bigger than yourself…you are a part of the depth of American distance running,

It isn’t the path that the “practical” person would take. It is a road full of risk and a high rate of failure. But in the end it doesn’t matter if you meet your ultimate performance goals because at least you tried. You took the bull by the horns and sought out on a journey that most wouldn’t dare to embark on. You believed strongly in something and decided to act upon that belief.

Read more here:

A blog that I quote often, The Logic of Long Distance, also offers a lovely narrative on this question.

Why I Run by Jeff Edmonds

I can’t speak for anyone else, but at a certain point the experience of running surpassed in value, and by a pretty wide margin, my desire to make sense out of it.

I don’t know why I run. I don’t know why I race. I don’t know why I compete. I don’t need to know. Because running means more to me than curiosity. It goes deeper than knowledge. I run. I compete. I move on down the line. I’m a runner.

For us runners, the question of “why” is pretty moot. Not because it may not be interesting, or important, from a certain point of view, but because we’ve left the question of the meaning of running behind. After all the questions have been asked, and all the answers given, in spite of the disagreement on essences, physiology, rationales, training strategies, trail running, road racing, i-pod wearing, mid-foot striking, turnover cadences, arm carriages, Jack Daniels, Arthur Lydiard, 20 miles a week or 100, 5k or the 50k, whether it’s really the Miles of Trials or the Trial of Miles, after all the words have been spoken and keyboards have been pounded, meanings given and ideologies subverted… After all this, we runners bend down and tighten the laces, open the door, brace for the cold and are renewed: another godawful, glorious, and meaningless 8 miler.

And finally, a short quote circa 1948 from the late, great Emil Zatopek- a runner who I love reading about (I especially enjoyed this short, sweet and compelling bio about him).

“If one can stick to training thought many long years, then willpower is no longer a problem. It’s raining? That doesn’t matter. I’m tired? That’s besides the point. It’s simply that I have to.”

I have a very short collection of existential threads, the first things that pop into my consciousness, when I try to capture my ‘why:’

runner on MacDonald Bridge in Halifax, NS

Winter, 2011

Because I love to.

Because my body knows what to do: pregnant or not.

Because the hard work pays off and I love the hard work and I love the pay off.

Because my hard work has helped me excel, be good at something.

Because I love the camaraderie.

Because it’s part of who I am.

Because it’s brought a lot of joy to my life and lets me be more joyful in other areas of my life.

Because it makes me a better Erin.

Have an answer to “why do you run”?  Let me know!