I managed to tear myself away from my book this afternoon and drag my fat ass to the gym. I hopped on the treadmill and started jogging - as I have been doing on a fairly regular basis over the past few months. Very quickly though, I felt more fatigued than I usually do. My legs felt heavy and I really had to work to keep up my usual pace. I had a hard time getting my breathing to level out - I almost felt like I was having an anxiety attack. I kept pushing through it though, because occassionaly I will have a mild anxiety attack at the beggining of a jog but it usually subsides. I simply chalk that up to my body being confused with the increased blood flow etc. Shortly after that, I realized that I was sweating profusely (more profusely than I usually do).
Still I kept going - after all, I have a routine. I need to stick to the routine.
And then... the treadmill rotated. Yes, it rotated. I really thought it rotated. Treadmills aren't supposed to do that. I thought maybe the gym had installed some new fangled treadmills that rotate after so many minutes in order to test and improve your balance. So I grabbed on to the handle to keep from falling off and looked around. Nobody else's treadmill had rotated. Upon further investigation, neither had mine. I had experienced some weird light headedness. I thought of how strange it felt and wondered what was going on. All the while, I kept jogging. It's part of my routine.
But then it rotated again. Actually, the whole room did. And I'm pretty sure the gym is not on a swivel.
I was so close to the end of my treadmill session that I decided to ride it out. But I kept feeling dizzy and I wondered how on earth I was going to finish the next 20 minutes on the elyptical trainer. (Because, as you might guess, that is part of my routine)
Just then I flashed back to a conversation I had with Lady Shanny recently. I had climbed wayyyy up on my soap box and lectured her about her walking routine. She had developed shin splints but didn't want to give up walking to work every day - despite hammering pain in her shins. After all, it's her "routine". Well I let her know in no uncertain terms that she needs to listen to her body. When it tells you it needs a break you need to allow yourself the break. No matter if it inturrupts your routine. After all, you are only hurting yourself in the end. It's ok to have a break from your routine when your body needs it. And blah, blah, blah. Blah-de-blah blah blah.
Luckily I remembered this soap box session of mine and called it quits before I ended up in a sloppy, sweaty mess on the floor of the gym with peppermint swirls in my eyeballs - wondering what happened, all the while the 20 year olds with stripper bodies looked on.
I continue to recover as I sit here and type.