Racing

Working out can be so invigorating. Your heavy feet meeting the awkward mechanical beast we call the treadmill. Getting acquainted isn't easy. Your feet are contagiously nervous standing there, swaying back and forth, from one to the other, as you so matter-of-factly determine which setting your mind wants you to strive for. But your body screams in agony, as your monotonous fingers pound on the high-tech electronic key pad. Your feet become weary to the mindset of the program you just so arbitrarily punched into the mechanical beast. As the black conveyor belt turns, slowly your feet begin to progress in a slight movement, one after another. Then faster and faster the beast moves to reach the desired speed programmed just moments ago. As the beast continues to accelerate at an unprecedented speed, soon, your feet are chasing one another. They realize the fate of their destruction relies on the program and the beast.

The concentration builds deep down in the pit of your abdomen, as you effortlessly breath the stale, sweaty air in and out at a repetitive rate, almost in unison with your stride, while your feet slam onto the black conveyor belt, one after another. In and out, left, right, left. In and out, left, right, left. But just then, almost as if you've been floating on a piece of weathered and splintered driftwood in the middle of the ocean, your mind begins to wander. Will I be able to keep up with this pace? What if my side starts to hurt, should I change my breathing? What was I going to do when I am done? What am I doing later today? Did I lock my car? You realize that it isn't just your body that is racing against the red LED clock flashing in front of you, your mind is racing too. One thought after another. Then, just then, these thoughts of craziness creep in, unexpectedly almost. The meaning of your life, the chain of events that led you to where you are today, do you have regrets, do you have resentments? Much like your feet following the path laid out at the onset of the program, you realize your thoughts are controlling you; your state of mind and state of being. Your face turns beat red from the blood rushing to your brain, the sweat beads up into droplets and fall to the floor. The breathing becomes more intense. Your feet are now begging for forgiveness.

Eventually the program commences and you slow your pace, but does your mind continue racing? There isn't a cool-down program for your thoughts to dissipate, much like your agonizing, aching feet, the full effects are about to take hold of you. You realize that your workout is more than the release of endorphins that keeps you coming back for more, it's the release of random thoughts you've stored away in a now dusty, brown box deep in the back room of your mind. Do you keep searching inside the box to reveal more or do you attempt to cool-down, hiding the box again without regard to where you leave it, hoping that the next session will be less devastating?

Sometimes I hate to go to the gym.