Update: Another Reason To Hate The Dreadmill

Super busy weekend, Saturday I didn’t have time for my long run.  Instead, I spent three hours at the gym.  I got lots of work done – weights, abs, elliptical crossramp, and the treadmill.  Wait.  Did I say treadmill?  I meant Dreadmill.

This is a dreadmill – notice my gear, not on my back.  There’s a towel on the left (to soak up the sweat from my face, because who wears a hat on the dreadmill?), water bottle and hair-tie on the right, and a Trader Joe’s bag on the floor with keys and other stuff like chapstick, a high school newsletter, and pen and paper:

For some reason, I find running excruciatingly difficult on the dreadmill.  I sweat more, the scenery is blah, and time passes slower than a snail moves.  Time moved so, so, slowly on Saturday, I put in my earbuds and forbade myself from looking at the stats until a song finished.  I played little games like increasing the pace at times, and not allowing myself to decrease it until an entire song played. 

This “adventure” really was hellish.  All 5 miles of it.  And before I even hit mile one, another dreadmiller came up and got on the machine next to me.  There were about 15 empty dreadmills that he could have occupied without having someone on either side.  I’m just not used to running so closely, side by side with someone for 5 miles. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I appreciate the dreadmill and what it offers (runs on terrible weather days, or when you can only fit in a run at 3AM).  My brother in fact, can only run dreadmills nowadays – it’s all his schedule allows.  At best, I appreciate the dreadmill because I can force myself to run faster. 

I don’t know. Maybe if I was a serious athlete, I’d appreciate this piece of machinery more.  I ask you, after peering off a mountain edge for several miles, how am I to appreciate a view like this:

Okay, it’s not a terrible view.  But there’s no clouds, no stinkbugs, birds nor bunnies.  Regardless, all of this complaining would really be moot, and I’d find myself back on the dreadmill probably someday soon, if it wasn’t for one thing.  The most important thing.  When I got home, my plantar fasciitis flared up worse than it ever has.  I endured great foot pain for two days, barely able to walk.  Ibuprofen did absolutely nothing to ease the pain.  Taping in fact did very little to ease the pain.  Numbing my foot with ice was about the only thing that worked.  The pain actually kept me awake at night.  That first night, in fact, I sweated all night long (like I had a fever).

I took Sunday and Monday off from any kind of cardio work, especially running.    I’ve been rolling, icing, heating and stretching.  I’ve gone through so much tape that I have permanent tape marks on the bottom of my foot.  Maybe it wasn’t the dreadmill.  But it seems just too coincidental to me.  (Sorry treadmill enthusiasts).