How I Conquered My Fear of the Dreadmill

sorry, fresh out of treadmill selfies; instead, this picture from my first half marathon, six years ago when I started running

I’ve been a semi serious runner for over six years now. Serious, meaning I’m serious about my gear and investing in proper equipment and making it a priority to get out there a few times a week. Semi, meaning I don’t get out as much as I’d like and it’s at a joggers pace when I do. It’s a constant challenge. 

I still don’t consider myself a “runner.” A runner is some mythical creature I’ve put on a pedestal, someone who glides along their route and isn’t red faced and out of breath after the first song on their iPod (if you’re not running with an iPod shuffle circa 2009, you’re not doing it right). Will I ever be in the leagues of these elite few? Probably not, but I’ve still got to try, since running is what I’ve learned to be the best overall workout for my body. No amount of lunges give the muscles in my leg the same definition. No matter how many Russion twists I do, I won’t get the same results. And nothing mirrors the sense of accomplishment after a good run.

There’s a hard divide between runners: those who like the treadmill and those who don’t. I’ve always thought people who actually enjoy the treadmill are an urban legend, like the Nigerian prince who’s stuck in limbo until he gets all the money in my bank account wired to him. Don’t worry, I’m heading to Western Union today! Seriously, who enjoys running on the treadmill? It’s boring and monotonous and tedious and can you tell I’ve run out of synonyms for boring, so I’ll make my final case: the treadmill is boring AF.

When Brent and I bought a treadmill last spring, I never intended to run on it. I planned to use it for walking on an incline on the rainy/snowy/freezing days I wasn’t running outside. Walking is even better for you than running, or so said the articles I read to convince myself that I didn’t need to be running anyway. The problem with that is I wasn’t satisfied with being defeated by a machine. This piece of workout equipment in my basement was practically laughing at me, smugly knowing that I was intimidated by it. I decided to get over my fear of running on the dreadmill once and for all. Maybe these tips will help with your treadmill phobia, too: 

Set Realistic Goals 

Even if you run outside and have the endurance, running on a treadmill is a whole different beast. I was regularly running between 3-4 miles when I decided to tackle the treadmill, and I soon realized there was no way I was doing that consecutive mileage on a machine. I watch TV when I’m running on the treadmill; I was watching sitcoms at the time and told myself I could run for 22 minutes. After that, I pushed it up to 25 minutes, then 28, and you get the point here. Start small and celebrate small gains; you just ran 20 consecutive minutes on the dreadmill, what what! 

Switch it Up

The treadmills’ trump card over running outside is the ability to change pace and incline quickly. Jogging, running and sprinting are all easily track-able in a way you don’t always have outside. If consecutive mileage isn’t your goal, the treadmill is probably a better option for interval training, and changing up the speed and incline helps fight boredom. Look online for premade treadmill workouts to find one that best suits your goals. 

Push Yourself 

You didn’t become a runner by stopping when you got tired. Being out breath with legs like lead and a gnarley side cramp are issues you overcame outside and they’re the same issues that will try to best you inside. You have to run through the burn/cramp/fatigue if you’re going to conquer the treadmill.

It’s All In Your Head 

Running is a mind game, we all know this. Treadmill running is some next level mental shit. Two minutes into my TV show I’ll convince myself I’m dying and can’t possibly go on. This is why watching television helps; I concentrate fully on the episode and ignore all the bullshit my mind is saying. I’m not tired, I just started. My legs aren’t heavy, they actually feel pretty light today. This cramp isn’t real, it’ll be gone by the next commercial break. Believing you can run on the treadmill is the first step to making it happen.

This post could lead the charge at a running expo; I feel like I missed my calling as a cheerleader. This peppy, nothing is impossible! attitude is pretty foreign to me and I'm a little out of my comfort zone; back to my usual ranting next week.