Little Victories: Katie 1 - Treadmill 0

I promise this will be one of the last "heavy" posts about my dad but this one has a happy ending. 

So if you've been reading my blog recently, you probably know I lost my dad unexpectedly about a month ago.  What you might not have picked up on is the circumstance of his death. He was working out on a treadmill and collapsed.  I didn't even think about it till the first time I tried to get on a treadmill afterwards and I literally couldn't do it.  I couldn't get more than 3 feet from it without breaking down.  I was so angry at it.  I wanted nothing to do with it for several reasons. 

That was over 4 weeks ago.  I've been going to the gym about three times a week since and everyday it taunts me.  I tell myself everyday that "today will be the day I conquer it" and I stop short unable to get past the mental images and pain that fills me.  So I take my run to the street and run around the gym, literally.

Well today I couldn't do that because S wasn't with me so I didn't want to leave the gym while E was in the nursery.  I knew today I'd have to deal with it or put off another run which I didn't want to do. 

I dropped E off and headed towards the row of treadmills and again I got 3 feet away and couldn't go any closer.  I started to tear up, frustrated that I'm not stronger than this.  That I can't seem to overcome it, that it's beating me.  Even now as I write this, I can't control the emotions.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think a treadmill would invoke this kind of resentment, pain and frustration.

I opted for the stair machine for a 15 min warm up and then weights.  About half way through my weights, I started hearing my dad's voice.  He was pressing me...asking me why I let it get the best of me and I just kept getting madder and madder.  I didn't realize it either but I was putting up weight that I haven't put up in a LONG time. 

When I was done, I knew I had to try it again or I wasn't going to get my run in and for whatever today that as unacceptable.  So I walked over to it and stepped on.  I was shaking and tearing up.  I didn't think I could do anymore than that.  (If that's all the further I had gotten, I would've considered it a victory). But then I just did it.  I remember that E was in the nursery waiting for me and I needed to remember that I need to keep living my life and if that meant getting over this hurdle so be it. 

So I hit "Quick start" and went.  Slowly adding speed at first..6.0...6.1...6.2, about every minute.  I was starting to find a rhythm.  Then my mind started up again...I started thinking about everything and got madder and madder and I kept hitting the arrow..6.3..6.4..6.7...7.0.  I'm not even watching the time anymore, I can't.  It's all I can do to keep from jumping off.  I was crying and I'm sure people thought I was strange but in the moment it was just me and the treadmill.  7.1...7.2...7.3..still wasn't fast enough to make the pain go away.7.5...7.6..finally I realized that I was about to fly off the treadmill when I started to slow down.   It was then that I looked down at the time....

I couldn't believe it.  Keep in mind, my fastest 3 mile run to date is about 28 min which I'm proud of. I still can't believe it or understand why but I'm going to assume it's my dad's way of saying "get on with your life".  Run, live, love.  It's ok, I'll be here with you.  So that's what I'm going to continue to try to do.  It's a long road but it's little victories like this that make it seem doable.  I love you dad!