I've never been a fan of the treadmill.
Without the threat of a possibly myocardial infarction, I would probably never don my running shoes ever. Zealous advocates enthuse about the intoxicating endorphin rush - I blame the oxygen depletion - but so far the only thing keeping me awake during the mind-numbingly tedious treadmill scamper is my trusty podcast replay informing me on all the stuff I missed during history class.
So the thought of getting up on the wee hours of a lovely Sunday morning just to hobble around a 10 km track sounds like something purely derived from the sordid punishments book of hell. Something Mad Madison, perhaps a closet masochist, seems all too willing to participate in.
Madison : Can't stay up late tonight, guys.
Paul : Wow, hot date?
Madison : I've got a marathon to run tomorrow morning.
Paul : What?
Madison : A marathon.
Paul : I know what it is. Why?
Madison : Because I like it?
Paul : At some ungodly hour as usual?
Madison : Gotta get up at 5 in the morning.
Paul : On a Sunday? That's cruel and unusual punishment.
Apparently Madison has peculiar methods of getting her own personal high. Since the odd female counts hiking and photography as her daily amusements, I shouldn't be terribly surprised since strangely all those hobbies somehow tend to flock together.
For a while back there, so many young virile sportsmen seemed to be falling lifeless at the various marathons that I wondered why any reasonably sane persons would still want to participate! Seemed like a near lethal sports event! Of course I'll probably never see the inexplicable allure of dragging myself out on a weekend just to sweat myself around the burning tarmac for a fake silver medal. Short of dangling a suitable prize such as a sexy sculpted stud in short shorts at the end of the race, I doubt I would even bother registering.
Of course that led my ever supportive friends to suggest placing booths and stalls stacked high with handicrafts and antiques all along the marathon route - with the early bird discount - buy one free one - as a suitable inducement for reaching there first. Intriguing.
If that were true, and they also had the sexy stud at the end as a prize, I believe I just might throw in my hat.
Then again I might do a Sophie Ellis Bextor and viciously eliminate all my other hopeful competitors. After all there's a prize I want.
Aren't we all glad they don't have such unique marathons?
Without the threat of a possibly myocardial infarction, I would probably never don my running shoes ever. Zealous advocates enthuse about the intoxicating endorphin rush - I blame the oxygen depletion - but so far the only thing keeping me awake during the mind-numbingly tedious treadmill scamper is my trusty podcast replay informing me on all the stuff I missed during history class.
So the thought of getting up on the wee hours of a lovely Sunday morning just to hobble around a 10 km track sounds like something purely derived from the sordid punishments book of hell. Something Mad Madison, perhaps a closet masochist, seems all too willing to participate in.
Madison : Can't stay up late tonight, guys.
Paul : Wow, hot date?
Madison : I've got a marathon to run tomorrow morning.
Paul : What?
Madison : A marathon.
Paul : I know what it is. Why?
Madison : Because I like it?
Paul : At some ungodly hour as usual?
Madison : Gotta get up at 5 in the morning.
Paul : On a Sunday? That's cruel and unusual punishment.
Apparently Madison has peculiar methods of getting her own personal high. Since the odd female counts hiking and photography as her daily amusements, I shouldn't be terribly surprised since strangely all those hobbies somehow tend to flock together.
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| I seriously doubt they have these as prizes, do they? |
For a while back there, so many young virile sportsmen seemed to be falling lifeless at the various marathons that I wondered why any reasonably sane persons would still want to participate! Seemed like a near lethal sports event! Of course I'll probably never see the inexplicable allure of dragging myself out on a weekend just to sweat myself around the burning tarmac for a fake silver medal. Short of dangling a suitable prize such as a sexy sculpted stud in short shorts at the end of the race, I doubt I would even bother registering.
Of course that led my ever supportive friends to suggest placing booths and stalls stacked high with handicrafts and antiques all along the marathon route - with the early bird discount - buy one free one - as a suitable inducement for reaching there first. Intriguing.
If that were true, and they also had the sexy stud at the end as a prize, I believe I just might throw in my hat.
Then again I might do a Sophie Ellis Bextor and viciously eliminate all my other hopeful competitors. After all there's a prize I want.
Aren't we all glad they don't have such unique marathons?
1 comment:
cardio on treadmill is seriously overrated,it's not like i'm against it, but imho, 10 minutes is sufficient enough to warm up before going for the weights...besides cardio on treadmill doesn't really benefit much, unlike the rower machine which is the ultimate fat burner that targets all of the major muscle groups, sadly most gym goers tend to ignore the rower machine, like what my trainer usually say "semua nak yang senang,semua malas, tau lari je"...
as for me, nothing beats deadlift, bench press and squats, these are the ultimate fitness workouts for the mind and body :)
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