spring in New Mexico
I was so lucky when I started this (and still am). I could access the treadmill for free. I could just walk to the other end of the apartment complex in five minutes or so, and there it was. Not too many people strived to make use of it, and I felt the treadmill was largely at my disposal. Out of touch with the mechanics of miling or those of my own body, I could study the data on the machine display – speed, mileage, incline, calories consumed – and get an inkling of where I was. However faint. I spent lots of time on that rubber band computing, my mind as active as my feet, if not more so.
While the machine would be, with certainty, a godsend in winter, it was spring time in New Mexico. A glorious opportunity to run outside. I knew that soon enough I would have to go out in the open. I did not see myself running indefinitely on the belt, and I did not feel entitled to keep the machine occupied for hours anyhow. Soon enough it was going to be hours I needed to spend on it. Hours. Hours of running.