The Last Five Minutes

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That remaining five minutes on the treadmill is always the most excruciating for me. I push myself to keep running, my heart beating so fast I can’t keep up, my lungs in the verge of bursting. I remind myself as I glance at the machine’s display that “it’s the last five minutes, you’ve been at this for the past forty-five minutes you can certainly finish the rest”, but then I look back at the time display and only 30secs have passed. Quickly, agony comes and I think, why am I torturing myself like this? Why can’t I just stop this dreaded machine instead of letting it run me down? Just push the stop button, it’ll all be over.

My eyes shift towards a picture of a fit model doing some squats and I remove my hand from the stop button. Maybe this is why I keep a fitness magazine beside me when I run. Distract myself, keep going, keep pushing. Meanwhile, my legs feel like they weigh a hundred pounds each. While this battle in my head is going on you’d think five minutes have passed…wrong, it’s only been two mins T_T I die a little more inside.

This have always been the case with me and running in the treadmill. It’s a love-hate relationship with a machine that tortures me so and yet allows me to consume as much food as I want as long as I don’t forget to get back on.

So what do I do to get out of such a dire situation? I’ve found myself an effective distraction method

Let’s see: in the mornings where I’ve hit the snooze button one too many times and am running late, I take the fastest shower I never think possible-five minutes. Some nights I like to glam myself up a bit more, I put on false eyelashes and by the time I’ve run out of patience and have grown frustrated, the lashes are perfectly in place and five minutes have passed. On a good morning, my coffee run usually takes me five fantastic minutes in the drive through. Scrolling through my newsfeed takes five minutes (sadly, even more so than that sometimes), heating up my car takes five minutes. Doing the dishes I’ve left in the sink for a week takes me a measly five minutes. By the time you finish reading this article it will probably be about five mins. of your time (thank you very much btw^^) In fact, while I kept doing this I found a lot of things that I normally do which takes me five minutes.

Next thing I know, the beeping of the machine distracts my thoughts. I look at the display and that’s it, the last five minutes are over. I slowly pick up my tired, wobbly legs and I make my way into the nearest bench I can find to collapse in. Once again, I survived another battle with the treadmill.

On to reflection, If I had given up in that last five minutes, I would have defeated myself out of the wonderful feeling of overcoming something difficult and gaining a sense of strength from that (not forgetting about losing those extra calories of course). If I had given up in that last five minutes, the next time I face the machine again, I might just give up after fifteen minutes. It will only get easier for me, easier to give up on the most difficult things just because it doesn’t feel comfortable, because it is easy to abandon and pick up next time. If this attitude continue to convey in how I live my life, what would life be like? Sometimes, it takes that last five minutes.

You are stronger than you think my dear ❤

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