Going nowhere fast

Call me lazy, but I generally dislike exercise. Which may come as a surprise since I played basketball on my school team for 6 years and volleyball for 4 years. Why did I participate in activities that required large amounts of bodily movement if I don't like exercise? Well, the main reason was that my friends did and I got to see them a whole lot more since we were all suffering together doing running drills. Second reason was because sports made me look like a "well-rounded" student on college scholarship applications.

Now I do enjoy playing a pick-up game of basketball or volleyball, but truth be told, I never enjoyed the somewhat-organized world of middle and high school sports. My coaches sensed this, I think. I just didn't have that killer instinct that it takes to be really good at a sport. That deep yearning to give 110% of myself and "be a winner". My senior year of high school we made it all the way to the game where, if you win, you get to go to Chapel Hill and play for the state championship in the Dean Dome. I don't remember specifics except that we lost an extremely close game in the closing seconds because of a very bad call by the referee. The whole game was very poorly officiated, actually, but the last minute was particularly heinous. Anyway, our team was mainly comprised of seniors and we knew this was the end of the line for our high school glory days of basketball. The locker room afterwards was very quiet except for the sound of crying and sniffling and nose-blowing. Hey, what can I say, we're girls. The head coach and her assistant were very misty-eyed, but all the players were bawling their eyes out, w/ one exception.

That would be me.

I felt really silly that I was the only one not crying. I tried to muster up some tears, but try as I might, the best I could do was an unconvincing pout. Don't get me wrong, I was sad we had lost and didn't get to go to the Dean Dome and all that jazz, but hey, don't you realize this means NO MORE BASKETBALL PRACTICE? And really, come on, it's just a game, right?

I don't regret those countless hours I spent playing sports because I do have some good memories from them, and I suspect they did help me get my free ride to college. But whenever I start thinking about exercise, and specifically running, it gives me a yucky feeling to my stomach as I recall those seemingly endless afternoons of basketball practice.

Which is why it's kinda funny that a few months ago I told Doug that I wanted to get a treadmill. I had been reading reviews of treadmills on the Consumer Reports website, courtesy of my Mama (she gave me a 1-year subscription for my birthday) and started thinking about how very little exercise I get. While I see this as a good thing, I also know that it is probably a bad thing considering that it's pretty much universally accepted as a major key to good health. I feel like I have our diet about where it should be, so why not conquer the other half of the "healthy lifestyle" duo?

So anyway, I ran this idea of acquiring a treadmill by Doug and he was less than enthused. First by the price tag of new treadmills and also by the fact that my better half shares some of my disdain for physical exertion. But then I looked on eBay and saw that we could solve the price problem there. And I patiently explained that I did not see walking up and down the stairs or around and around in the basement as an elegant solution to my treadmill-less-ness. So the more he thought about it, the more he warmed up to the idea of getting some exercise in a climate-controlled environment w/ visual entertainment just 10 feet away (aka the television).

So after several weeks of watching auctions and looking on craigslist, we finally got a nice treadmill. It goes up to 10mph and has incline settings (0-10) and a built-in fan. We've both been using it almost every day, usually going 2 miles at various inclines and speeds. I can't say I'm enjoying it, but I am very glad we got it and don't hate it the way I did back in high school. Maybe because it's me controlling how long and far I go instead of someone else yelling that I better pick up the pace or we'll have to start all over again.

Oh, a funny story about our purchase. The guy we bought it from is in the large city about an hour away. (Since people don't want to ship these things, large items are usually sold w/ local pick-up only.) We were going to go meet him there to pick it up from him, but he ended up needing to come to M-town to deliver a bed to his in-laws who live in the subdivision next to ours. So he brought it w/ him and left it there for us to get. Doug went to the seller's in-laws' house and realized that he plays handbells w/ the mother-in-law. Small world, eh?