Apr 23, 2019 4 min read

I’ve probably made it to three days a week that I run on my treadmill now. Most of those days, I spend the time walking and only do a little running. This is because my knees can’t take the impact anymore. I do other things to increase the intensity instead, like raise the incline up high, walking backward instead of forward, or a trick a friend told me, which is walk sideways. All those things work different muscle groups without the jarring impact on my knees.

Sunday having been Easter, I overindulged in tasty treats. That meant the treadmill was not an option on Monday. It simply had to be done. I rolled out of bed, struggling to find the will to make it to the exercise room. I plugged the machine in and turned it on while I laced up my shoes.

When I pressed the start button, the time begin counting as usual, but when I increased the speed, everything went to zeros and nothing else happened. I powered down, waited 10 seconds and turned the machine back on. I repeated this process four times with no luck. By this point, I was awake enough to be looking forward to my walk, and I was not going to be deterred by the simple fact that my treadmill wasn’t working.

Instead, I threw on a sweatshirt and told my husband I was walking the field. (It was still too dark to attempt to traverse even the side road by our house.) I walked across the barnyard, through the gate, and began to climb the hill.

I feel I need to interject that when I say I walk an incline on my treadmill, the steepest it goes is 12 percent. Also, at that incline, the belt tends to slip and it makes a horrific noise, so I typically can’t go over 10 percent. The hill that I begin my walk with is probably 30 percent. Often, I zigzag back and forth to reduce the strain and pressure (and to help me breathe!) Monday, I opted to walk straight up it. It nearly ended the walk before it began.

By the time I reached the top, my lungs were burning. My quads were burning. The only way I was able to continue was to remember that the three minutes I had walked would never register on my pedometer.

I walked out a flat stretch and then turned to go up the next hill. I heard something behind me, and when I turned to look, I saw my cat, Bella, following me. I stopped momentarily to see if she wanted picked up, but she turned and walked away. I continued walking.

I went clear to the property line, speaking to the cows that were resting in the top field. I picked up a few pieces of debris that had blown from who knows where along my way. When I reached the property line, I had broken a sweat, so I turned to follow the path back from where I had come. About 30 feet back, Bella was waiting. This time, she was willing to be picked up, so I carried her a good stretch of the way home while she purred in my arms and rubbed her face on my hands.

When we arrived, I deposited her on the steps and went in to take a shower. For a quick fix to the treadmill issue, it wasn’t bad. I was especially pleased to have had company on the way.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.