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The Treadmill

I've used treadmills during my exercising efforts. I actually like them. I play with the controls, slowing and speeding the pace, changing the incline up and down, counting the minutes and steps, pushing for just one more, two more. 

Turning it off and stepping off, momentum continues. I feel I'm still moving. The effect lasts just a few seconds but it's an interesting disorientation. 

Less interesting is the similar feeling from stepping off the work treadmill. Number one, it doesn't get turned off. I leap off and struggle for balance. The sensation of working continues. Takes a while for its cadence to quit ringing in my mind and the issues to fade. Come my return to work, now I need to jump back onto the moving treadmill. I need to find its speed and start running or walking immediately or I'll fall off. On the best mornings, the speed is slow and I have time. I can take a pace. Stand, letting it carry me, then take a few more paces. But most mornings I immediately start walking. Most terrible are those days when I leap onto it and start running. I find the pace but it's a hard stride, all muscles and focus, with everything else shut out. Sometimes it slows down by the days' business end but other times, I leap away. 

Yes, I know. At least I have a job, a house, food, money, clothing. I know. I appreciate all of that although not as much as I should. There are treadmills everywhere. Everyone has their own. Some are more wearisome and much darker than my abstract, well-paid position. I keep that in mind, as well. I can turn my treadmill off by walking away. At least, that's the theory. I'm sure that if I did, I'd find another treadmill to replace it.

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