Lately going to the gym has become a chore. My time on the treadmill has felt like just another thing I need to get done during the day. While I watch TV as my legs move, my mind is on what I else I need to do that particular day, and what time I’ll get home after it all. As much as when I am done I can watch flashing LEDs tell me what my average heart rate was, what my maximum heart rate was, how long I walked and how many calories I burned, I haven’t been feeling satisfied—despite the numbers.
The other day I decided to break out of my rut and out of the gym and enjoy the outdoors and what feels a lot like spring in these parts. I laced up my sneakers and hit the pavement. I broke a sweat and got my heart rate up while admiring the pretty dogwood trees along the way and deciding which house on my route was my favorite. Not once did I run through a list of things I still had to do that day.
It felt good. The fresh air AND the exercise.
And, maybe most: being in the moment.