8 Miles on the Treadmill is Fun

You see what I did there? I used a headline that clearly isn’t true. That’s called sarcasm. Sarcasm is the crutch of the shoddy writer and is the lowest, basest form of humor, which is why you’ll find plenty of it here at Half-Fast.

Anyway, like the headline says I ran 8 miles on the treadmill this past weekend and they were anything but fun. Looking back on it I’m not exactly sure why I decided to run on the treadmill but it was almost as bad a decision as when my wife and I decided that we wanted a second child.

You ever notice how painful memories seem to get less painful as they fall further into the past? It’s like natures way of making sure you don’t learn from your mistakes. When Candis was pregnant the first time, she hated the final few months and the whole birthing process. Things got pretty bad, but a few months later there we were talking about having another kid, just standing on the tracks completely oblivious to the train hurtling towards us.

That’s what running on the treadmill is like for me, I always forget how bad it is and how much I hate it. No, I did not just compare childbirth to running on a treadmill. Running on a treadmill is much worse than giving birth as far as I can tell. At least after you give birth someone brings you your meals in bed. When I get done on the treadmill I have to go get a meal on my own, ironically I’ll probably be doing a lot of that over the next few days after my wife reads this.