I've been walking on the treadmill for awhile to start my warm up for the trainer.
Thus far, I've not done any jogging on the beastie machine primarily because I've been afraid that my pounding steps would send screws, belts, and wires flying as the machine collapsed beneath my weight and, to state the obvious, that would be completely embarrassing to have happen while in a crowded gym.
So, I stuck with my 3.5 walking speed and did all my running outside on firm ground.
Last week though, the trainer wanted us to run a quarter mile as part of our cross training session and since it was almost 100 outside, we were to run on the treadmill.
Uh-oh, my brain said.
This was one of those times when my 300 pound self was my reality and not my 190 pound self.
As I stepped on the treadmill with wobbly knees, I could already hear in my head my not-yet-taken thunderous steps and the craziness that would soon ensue when I broke the machine.
I started at a casual 5.7 pace and was relieved when nothing happened. No screws went catapulting across the gym. No belts let loose and smacked anyone in the face. The TV screen didn't fall off the front of the treadmill in a shattered mess. So far no wires were sending sparks. And I was running on the treadmill.
I pushed up the pace a bit more and found myself sprinting at a 7 without any disastrous outcome. I was actually doing it and the machine was keeping up. Ok, truthfully, I was keeping up with the machine but still ... it was happening!
I had a great workout that day. I pushed myself harder and further than I had in awhile and that felt great.
Isn't it odd how we get something in our heads and then have a hard time breaking out of that box to think something different? I'd seen other people heavier than me running on the treadmill (even over 300 pounds) and yet in my head I could never do that task.
The limits we place on ourselves are our own and each time I encounter one that I didn't even know existed, I'm surprised and happy to pick it up and toss it away like the weight I'm losing.
That feels pretty darn good.