Treadmill Trauma

Until two months ago, I was the fastest person who ran on the treadmills at my local gym on weekdays between the hours of ten and one o’clock p.m. I know this because I’m extremely petty and enjoy being in competition with people who don’t know they are in a race. This generally ensures a victory for me and helps shore up my fragile ego. I go to the gym on alternate days and run on the treadmill as part of my warm-up, and there was never anyone who seemed nearly as fast of me.

Until two months ago.

Two months ago, one particular young woman started showing up during my time slot. She gets in around 11:00 a.m., and does a quick warm up involving lunges, side bends, and something complex with a big elastic band. She looks slightly bored as she goes through her routine. Then she gets onto a treadmill, sets it to 10 miles/hour, and runs without any evidence of overexertion for thirty minutes. (I know what speed she sets her treadmill at because I casually walked behind the treadmill and glanced at her numbers on the day she first arrived.)

RELATED: The fear of losing

I can run at 10 miles/hour for 30 minutes, but it sure isn’t effortless for me. What’s more is that it was strikingly obvious that this woman could go a lot faster too. When she finishes up, she doesn’t gasp for breath or swill water like I do. She serenely retreats to the dumbbell rack and begins a balanced and well-rehearsed strength regime.

Being the mature and sophisticated person I am (notice my sarcasm), I’ve dealt with this blow to my ego with ease and dignity, moving through all seven stages of grief over the course of a mere eight weeks, a journey outlined below in the form of approximate quotes from my internal dialog.

Shock and Denial

“No way she’s really going as fast as—oh wait she is.”

Pain and Guilt

“It’s because she’s a woman isn’t it you sexist pig? No? Then what is it you sniveling, slow, weak-minded, pathetic, loathsome, immature, backward, lazy…”

Anger and Bargaining

“She’s got way longer legs than I do.”
“She’s got WAY longer legs than I do!”
“SHE’S GOT WAY LONGER LEGS THAN I DO!”

Depression, Reflection

“This life, which had been the tomb of his virtue and of his honour, is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then…”

The Upward Turn

“Breathing in, and-not-looking-at-her-gliding-along-with-incredible-ease, breathing out all that negativity.”

Working Through

“If we consider ourselves complex agglomerations of biological traits and socio/cultural factors, then it would be silly to compare ourselves based purely on the behaviors we’re able to observe at first passing glance.  We must take the time to assess our respective socio-economic backgrounds, the athletic opportunities presented us, how these factors interplay with individuated traits…”

Acceptance and Hope

“Maybe she could teach me something.”

The woman, it turns out, used to run track competitively in college. We’ve spoken a number of times now at the water fountain. She’s responded to my envy with tales of early morning workouts, track meets, and intensive training. She’s impressed upon me the hours, sweat, and dedication that have buoyed her to her current level of fitness, which she refers to as being in “decent” shape. In listening to her, I’ve been made freshly aware of the gap between recreational runners like myself and dedicated athletes. No doubt part of this gap is accounted for by dedicated athletes’ willingness to embrace competition at the highest level, rather than grieve its very existence for months on end.