Weekdays lately feel like a sprint between meetings, so the only way to keep training is to embrace the office treadmill. Surprisingly, I don’t mind it. I leave the headphones in my locker and listen to the belt hum in rhythm with my footsteps. It’s a stripped-down kind of focus.
On September 25, the console flashed 11.11 km in 55:31, roughly 689 kcal at an even 5'00’’/km. Because treadmills can feel forgiving, I nudged the incline up a notch to mimic pavement.
Pre- and post-run weigh-ins showed a 1 kg drop—not fat loss, just sweat turning my shirt into a towel. Still, it’s a satisfying little data point.
The view helps. Through the big window in front of the treadmill, the traffic lights of Shanghai’s Middle Ring Road stream by like a neon river. It’s oddly soothing and far better than facing a blank wall.
Some people say logging double digits on a treadmill is madness; I call it practice. With city lights for company, even an indoor run feels like a small adventure. Next up: an outdoor half marathon this weekend, weather permitting.