3 miles. I can do three miles on a treadmill. I can handle it. Bring it.
Wow, I went to the treadmill because it’s so hot outside… but uh, it’s kinda hot in the gym. Is there air conditioning in here? It’s hot in the winter, it’s hot in the summer… Why can’t it be freezing cold all year round? But wait, there’s a water cooler! I’ll get my value from the water cooler.
Why do they have to put a mirror in front of the treadmill. “You have to look at yourself as you run so you can see how terrible you look!” HOW AM I ALREADY SWEATING I JUST WALKED TO THE #$@!KING GYM, NO SERIOUSLY. I have to run here on this thing and stare at myself as I do it, that’s not fun at all.
Well lookie who we have here. If it isn’t Miss Fitness Model flipping through People on the elliptical before she does some bullshit stretching on the floor. Oh, and here’s her boyfriend, steroid Ken.
Today she is sporting a strappy, fashion forward sports bra. I wonder what it’s like to have the luxury of wearing a runway ready sports bra that doesn’t have to be concerned with actual, you know, function. And booty shorts. It’s like everything I can never wear. And she’s not even sweating. I mean at best this is a leisurely stroll she’s engaging in and I look like someone just threw me in a fucking pool.
But hey, REPEATS! SPEED WORK! IMPROVEMENT!
Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go vomit in that trashcan over there.