The Treadmill – pt 1

Step.  Step. Step. Step.  It had been that way for years.  Forever really.  One foot in front of the other.  One step, another step, and another, to infinity.  Going where, I was never really sure.  Somewhere better.  Somewhere shiny with a big bed made just for me.  But it always seemed just out of reach.  Like a carrot dangling hopelessly.   

My treadmill isn’t beautiful, but it’s mine.  The belt is worn from years of stepping.  Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes a literal crawl.  Always reaching, yearning, hoping for that promised reprieve. 

One day I was handed a soft feather.  Told it would keep me safe.  I thought that maybe I could see the bird out the stained window.  Strained my neck for a glimpse of what must be a beautiful animal, but I stumbled and nearly lost my footing.  I wondered how the feather would save me.  But I tucked it close to my breast and believed.  Step. Step. Step.

Through the red and orange glass I caught occasional glimpses of the most majestic snow capped peaks.  Sometimes I would adjust the incline on my treadmill.  My legs would burn as I climbed, climbed, climbed.  Maybe if I climbed hard enough I’d be able to feel the crisp mountaintop air.  I’d close my eyes and inhale long and for a moment I could imagine the thrill of arriving.  But then I’d look down and the belt would be churning and I’d remember.  Climb. Climb. Climb.

My feet ached constantly.  I longed to sit down and rub them, but if I was to rest how would I ever arrive?   Amy Grant serenaded through my discman, “Yesterday I thought I’d seen it all.  I thought I’d climbed the highest wall.  Now I see the learning never ends, and all I know to do is keep on walking…singing ‘why why why does it go this way?’”  And I’ve never felt something so deep in my soul, but her answer is foreign to me.  “Somewhere down the road there’ll be answers to the questions…”  Road?  I coudn’t see a road.  Step. Step. Step. 

A few years ago I started running, sprinting even.  The round guy sauntering on the treadmill next to me told me I should.  He said it was the right way, even as his smooth words contradicted his own slow pace.  But I listened because his treadmill was much nicer than mine, and he seemed smart, and I really longed to arrive.  So I cranked up my tempo.  I swung my arms, I threw my head back, and I willed my legs to run like the wind.  I grew tired, but I pressed on.  And just as soon as it started, it stopped abruptly as I felt large arms push me down.

My knees hit the spinning belt hard, and I flew off the back end of the treadmill.  I laid on the floor, breath ragged, sweat dripping from my elbows, tears flowing down my crimson cheeks.  As shame overcame me, I snuck a glance at the man.  He gave me a smirk and turned my treadmill off.  I could hear the buzz of treadmills all around me, the pounding of feet, the faint music…  I lifted my head toward the colored windows; yet, could see nothing but sky through the glass.  Where the mountains still out there?  Where was the bird?  My hand rushed to my breast, and devastation overcame me once again.  My feather.  Gone.  Salvation would not be mine.