This is so stupid, the young boy said to me this morning referring to the treadmill.
How do I respond, I thought to myself. Philosophically? From a point of view of gratitude?
Or should I empathise? That all his recent running workouts had been indoors because of the air pollution and that had to be hard. At least, I continued to run outside for the most part.
That I too find a treadmill run more often than not a chore. And that I have to remind myself to be grateful.
When it was my turn, I ran slowly, and while I played with the incline, I kept it at a very easy effort. I found myself feeling impatient, counting the minutes down.
How differently time feels at different points in myriad ways.
Writing about Running 