Monday, December 22, 2008

Life As A Treadmill

An original stream of consciousness by O-dogg.

My feet are pounding on the endless track of rotating rubber. My legs are keeping pace with the prescribed 7.5 miles per hour, and then, as if hypnotized, my mind starts to drift ... my eyes defocus ...

The rythm of the treadmill is in perfect concert with the rythm of the people on the eliptical trainers in front of me. Further down, the motions of a man pulling on cables adds to this symphony of sweat and pain. Way in the background, the giant glass windows reveal the kick-boxers in the aerobics studio, acting as the dancers in this cacophony of machinery and iPods.

I am in a trance, like a zombie workin' on his fitness. My body is working hard, my mind is hardly working. I am transported to another place in time and space. It's like my own private portal to another dimension; I am teleported by the sweet sounds coming from my headphones: The Concretes, The Cranberries, The White Stripes, The Ting Tings and on and on.

If Morpheus were to suddenly appear, floating over the row of treadmills, and offered me the red pill, I would swallow it faster than you can say "Nebudchadnezzar." I believe there is a very deep rabbit hole that exists under the treadmill ... I wonder if they serve Hefeweizen with lemon down in the rabbit hole? Only one way to find out: take the headlong dive into the unknown - but don't forget to wipe down your equipment before you make the leap.