Fellrunner in dreadmill enjoyment shocker

Trapped indoors, like a hawk in a cage. Working in Beijing and staying at a nice hotel with a well equipped gym. I promised myself to exercise daily on this trip, if not only to mitigate the intake of roast duck, biscuits and meaty buns. 

The dreadmill beckoned and I shuddered, thinking about the last time I was here, staring at the metres on the clock, willing them up to 5k…is this only 2k…?? Hell. pure hell, thinking only about how long there still was to stay on the machine, and constantly checking my form, my footstrike, my posture....spiral of madness . As I packed for the trip, inspiration struck and I dug my dusty iPod mini out of the drawer. Since I took to the hills, listening to music as I run has become anathema but now it’s saved me.

My workouts have been song-driven. Two days ago it was a song pyramid. Start at marathon pace and dial up the numbers on the dreaded dial a few each time a new song comes on, until top gear was reached, then dialling down with each song. Today it was song intervals, starting steady and then up to 5k pace every other song. Indie-rock and electro-bubble have made the dreadmill less dreadful. Royksopp and Depeche Mode and Kavinsky and Foals keep me running, relax my shoulders and my face. Every time I start to hate it, the jetlag creeping up in my chest, I remind myself , Askwith-like, that if I can’t do this, how am I supposed to complete an English Champs A Long next weekend with jetlag.

It’s so warm here though. Drenching with sweat in a most unbecoming manner. I think I sweated a part of my soul out today, the part which likes warm showers. I’m sure I’ll find some lovely salty food later on.