I'm on the road again. And that means another hotel fitness room.
In this case, it's a Holiday Inn outside of Atlanta with a 12' x 12' room that contains two filthy treadmills, one bike and one elliptical, plus a set of hand weights.
The best part of the whole room is the wall of mirrors. The treadmills face them and I was a little self-conscious when I first stepped on and fired up the belt.
But guess what? I loved it. And I hope that doesn't sound narcissistic. Let me explain.
Running outside is great. I like the changing scenery. I like how quickly the time seems to pass. I like the fresh air freedom it brings. The thinking I can get done is wonderful.
But the only thing I can see is my feet and the upcoming hill. I can't tell if my form is good. And while I know how my breathing feels, I can't really tell how it looks. Of course I always think I'm breathing harder and working harder than I really am.
With these enormous mirrors, I can SEE me. I can see the sweat begin to surface. I can see my stride and how I hold my shoulders, which reminds me to stand up taller.
And I can see how strong I look. That my breathing isn't nearly as labored as it might seem in my head. And that encourages me to keep going ... just a little farther.
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