Running on a Dreadmill
I hate running on treadmills to point where I have nicknamed them dreadmills. I love running outside. The feeling of the sun and the occassional breeze, the sound of my sneakers crunching on gravel, the serene feeling of running underneath a canopy of leafy trees. The treadmill may say that I have run 3 miles, but I don’t feel like I have run 3 miles. Listening to a music playlist, alternating between staring at the tv and watching the people lift weights in front me, just isn’t exciting. What makes a run is the little things - trying a new route, seeing a bright red cardinal flutter in the trees, and the feeling that you are making a journey. For my long runs, it is cool to reflect on all of the passed milestones - trotting past the coffee shop, sprinting under the spooky bridge, reaching your turnaround point - it feels like my mind, body, and soul all go through a simple pilgrimage together. The reason I run isn't to fit into my skinny jeans or keep my heart healthy (although those are perks), I run because it is a meditative activity that I enjoy. It is a release from stress and anxiety, and I have never regretted a single run that I have done. It is March, and Chicagoland is blanketed in snow. Running while bundled in layers, pushing against the wind, sounds scary. So I sweat in the indoors, complain about the treadmills, and dream of warmer temperatures. The hardest part of running isn’t the physical exertion, it is the mental will to keep going (in my opinion). I keep myself going by envisioning crossing my finish lines (I have a half marathon and full marathon coming up) and knowing that warmer runs are just around the corner. Until Next Time. Follow my journey at #AshleysJourney #journeys.