It’s a rainy, snowy Tuesday morning, so I headed to our fitness center (in the basement) to walk on a treadmill. On arrival there were four or five guys there. There was a time when that would have been reason enough for me to not go in - if I was alone - I’d skip it, but I feel more at home now.
Late one Sunday night I decided to treadmill. A few guys were there on the weight-cable-machines at the far end of the room (it’s huge) and I decided give it a try anyway.
As I was setting up to walk, this one string-bean of a guy did a funny, exaggerated flex in my direction, saying loudly, “I’m the man of your DREAMS!”
To which I quipped back, “The man of MY dreams would do my chemistry fact-sheet.” (homework)
Which got a laugh from the guys who went back to their workout - ignoring me. That’s when I began to relax.
BLT word of the day challenge: Quip, a a clever remark or a witty or funny observation or response
I'm running on a treadmill sweat is dripping down my face I'm running on a treadmill can I keep up with the pace I'm running like I'm being chased. I'm running to a place that doesn't exist. I'm running running running waiting for someone to assist me. I'm learning more about myself but also watching everyone flee from me, I'm running towards something that I'm not sure was meant to be I'm running and my ears are starting ring ring RING! Its starting to sting I'm running away from something thats attached I'm running to catch something that wasn't meant to be catched
Sweat trickles down my nose And onto my gasping lips Begging for a gulp of air, Begging for sweet relief As my legs start to go numb And my ears ring, head pounds But I keep going and going... Until I hear it cry out “2 miles, Workout Complete”
I'm in a treadmill in my mind, It's like a hamster in a cage. Claw and scratch, but I'm confined, Till I go off the pressure gauge. So I let out a little steam, From the cooker in my brain, It's not like I can simply dream, Because I'm becoming insane. I'm in a treadmill in my mind, Look closer and you will find, That the treadmill is designed, To be a never-ending grind.
How to get off the treadmill, We've all been workers, through the mill, In golden days, we step back, Cut all the young ones some slack, Their time for the great Oz dream, Is the economy what it seems? At our age we've been through the mill, Our golden years, off the treadmill....