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I ran on the new treadmill last night. I walked away from walking after 2.5 miles and decided running was where I needed to be. Running was what I needed. Period. It’s only right. What other way would I want to break in a new tread? By walking? How ridiculous is that? So I ran. Ran not so far away. But, but. But! I ran. 3.16 miles. The whole experience was beyond bizarre in every way. For starters there were my new surroundings to negotiate. I ran with my left side verrry close to a big dark green wall. I’m used to a white closet door on my right, one that I can push closed if it starts to crowd me. In this new space I felt like I could send a picture of Ramirez flying at any second. Instead of a letter from President Bush in front of me I stared at football players. I couldn’t read the words, “we, a grateful nation…” I need to consider my inspiration. Instead of floor lamps in corners the new room was all around brighter. And Kisa was there on the computer. And the cats, chasing each other. Weird. Distracting. I found myself yelling at Jones to cut it out from time to time. Because I had an audience I felt as though I had to keep my emotions in check. I still talked to me, myself and moi, though.
Then there was the new gerbil cage, which I’m calling “New Guinea” by the way. Get it? Anyway, Instead of plugging in an iPod and shutting the world out with ear buds I listened to Wolf Mother, 10,000 Maniacs, Rolling Stones, Tori Amos, and Stevie Wonder through speakers. Instead of overheating and sweating I had a fan blowing on my face. Instead of one screen of statistics I had three to play with. Instead of bouncing on a too-loose belt my footfalls were firm beneath me. Everything was different about this cage and yet I was right at home. I didn’t expect romance at first run, but there you have it. Welcome to New Guinea.
