If you’ve been reading here lately, you know that I’ve been doing some walking for the past few weeks, with an eye toward attempting a 5K (3.1 miles) that Mondovile stages at Homecoming in October — under the condition that I believe I can complete the course in less than an hour (Yeah, I know — way to set the bar high, Mondo. I don’t care; I’m a big guy, and I’ve historically moved at speeds that cause 3-toed sloths to give me the finger as they pass me. Less than an hour is faster than the average human’s walking pace. For me, that’s an accomplishment.). I go to the Y and do half an hour (plus a minute or two to build momentum and a minute or two to cool down) on the treadmill. I do it that way because there’s a sign in the exercise room that says there’s a 30-minute time limit on the treadmills, and I have visions of getting booted out or something. This is counterbalanced by the fact that whenever I’m there (either early in the morning or after my classes), there are always vacant treadmills, even when I’m using one. Mrs. M (who has gone to the Y for years) assures me that no one pays attention to the time limit unless someone is waiting, so I figure I can be a little less scrupulous about it.
So anyway, I got to the Y after class, and there were plenty of good treadmills available, so I decided to see how much I need to do in order to achieve my target, and if it took me some extra time, it wasn’t hurting anyone, so why not let my Thelemic freak flag fly? Which brings us to:
Now, a treadmill isn’t the Mondoville landscape, but there’s a way yet until October. Proof of concept: achieved.