One step beyond: The treadmill and me
HERE I go. It’s treadmill time – 7am.
It can seem far too much like hard work. That’s just the bending over to put my towel down as this expensive piece of kit has nowhere to put it.
The gym is quite quiet at this time in the morning. I lower my head to avert the gaze of the body builders and lycra-clad, super-fit, women who have also hauled their arses (or what there is of them) here as I step on. OK Go, I aint.
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