Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Day 362 - NordicTrack Dreadmill
I run. I blog. I sleep. I lounge. I may go see a movie. Occasionally I eat.
The lounging part of the week has re-introduced me to daytime TV. Which blows.
It's also introduced me to one thing that blows especially hard: The Nordic Track Treadmill commercials. I know, I've bemoaned the evil treadmill before, but this new assault requires a counter.
First, it's an advertisement for a treadmill. So it's obviously deceitful and evil.
Second, the treadmill includes some lame-ass "workouts" from Jillian Michaels, who apparently is on TV and therefore someone people look to for workout advice. Let me shine a little light on this for you... Jillian is not getting up early every morning typing out your workout. She doesn't know you're alive.
Third, and most upsetting, the treadmill is linked to Google Maps. I love Google Maps, but seeing it used by the dark side is disturbing. The idea is that you map a route and "run" that route. It's punctuated by a woman who says "I can run in Central Park!"
The first time I heard this, I threw up in my mouth. Not a little, a lot.
Folks, you can't run in Central Park from your basement. The 7-inch screen is not a substitute for reality. It's like watching an episode of Friends and saying your dating Jennifer Aniston.
I guarantee that a run around your neighborhood, even a run around a Target parking lot, will be more like running in Central Park than running on this stupid treadmill.
These abominations sell for $3000. Here's an idea. Take $100 to a good running store and buy a pair of shoes. Add in another $400 and get some cold-weather gear. Then spend $1000 on a 2-day trip to New York City and run in the actual, analog, 3-D, full-sensory experience, Central Park... the one with trees, and a zoo, and horse drawn carriages, and sky. And then, have a nice dinner and catch a show. Pocket the rest of the money. Or, spend the other $1500 on a trip to Miami, or Austin, or San Francisco, or Sedona, or Paris, or Rome, or Maui, or anywhere else you want to run, and run there, for real.
If you aren't moving across the surface of the planet, you're not running. You're imitating a hamster. Get outside!
Sure as hell beats running in your basement, staring at a screen that's trying to convince you you're somewhere else.
Remember, every time you run on a treadmill, an angel's wings are ripped off.
P.S. Reminder, all readers are invited to Brockway Pub in Carmel sometime around noon on Friday for a 365th run pint. If you can make it, drop me a note in comments, Facebook, or at email@example.com.
Numbers: 5.0 miles with Mike, dancing with the devil on the slick streets of some neighborhood.
Posted by Douglas White at 1:14 PM