I have decided to take a big step and say a fond farewell to the treadmill.
My father's treadmill has been good to me, we've had our ups and downs, but I think the time has come for me to move on and forge a relationship with the outside world.
Treadmill running has been a great way for me to get my fitness up a little, and more importantly to give me the confidence I need to get out and face the prospect of being seen running like a loon by other human beings.
For those of you that know the American sitcom, Friends - imagine Phoebe running (you know the one!), multiply that by five and you'll be getting somewhat closer to understanding how I look whilst training.
I am not the most graceful person you'll ever meet. I have a tendency to walk into things, fall over my own feet, or indeed ride my bicycle into the Gloucester Sharpness canal (yes, it's true). I have self diagnosed this affliction as dyspraxia, however, most would condemn me as unbelievably clumsy.
In my opinion, running on a treadmill requires a great deal of balance and the need to get into a rhythm. I have, on occasions managed to combine balance with rhythm, but it most certainly does not come easily to me. Losing either one of these through lack of concentration, or my dyspraxia (!) leads to injury.
For those of you that are unaware, treadmill injuries can be rather serious, and friction burns on your chin, forearms, knees and hip take a while to heal. This is a lesson I am embarrassed to say I have learnt through experience. I can confirm the below video is not me, but it is a rather accurate representation of just one of my painful treadmill related incidents.
And so, my treadmill fling is officially over and I am in search of a more serious and long lasting love affair with the great outdoors.
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