I Will Not Get Sick

Blech. I hate being sick. So I'm just not going to get sick. Not. Going. To. Get. Sick.

I have that slightly queasy, pain in the pit of my stomach feeling. I'm not going to eat anything today. Can't throw up if you don't eat, right? Maybe this will be my new holiday tradition, a Valentine's Day fast.

On a better note, I did use my treadmill this morning. It was so early in the morning that I wasn't awake enough to know I was feeling sub par. I fast walked 3/4 of a mile and sprinted the last 1/4 mile just to make the torture end more quickly. I was going to do 2 miles, but thought I'd best ease into it and remember to bring my CD player next time. That way I'd have something to focus on, other than my internal dialogue which kept saying, 'This totally stinks', 'How much longer', 'I hate exercise.'

I considered the fact that if the day is passing too quickly and I want to slow time down, all I need to do is hop on the treadmill. Time on the treadmill all but stands still. I watch the clock in disbelief as a minute drags on for an eternity.

Run... run... run... holy crap, how can that only be 30 seconds, run... run... run... I think I may die... run... run... run... the clock must be broken

My arms are killing me now from hanging on to the support bars. There were a couple of times I could have sworn I was almost horizontal and my arms were the only thing that were keeping me from flying across the room and slamming into the wall behind me.

What, your arms are not supposed to be what keeps you on the treadmill? I should go slower? But then it will take so much longer. What? I can't hear you.

I am trying to tell myself that I will be very happy once I am consistently exercising and seeing results, the first step is the hardest, and all those other motivational and inspiring things. blah blah blah.