on why i love treadmills

Its something about
running without actually running.
It seems all so effortless, and yet forced. There is no
slow down option,
I watch the numbers grow in front of me and feel
Victorious.
The black band forces me onward,
techno nothingness runs on in my ears,
and the time slips with my sneakers on the
endless forward whirr of blackness.
Something about
running forever, a sort of dancing in my brain,
Something about
the sweat running down my back.
A constancy, a rhythm I cannot find by myself.
A dance, a race against the machine
which is my driving force- artificial because I have none of my own.
It’s something like
proving myself, a competitive urge, I am saying “Hah!” in the face
of something invisible that did not believe I could make it
another mile.
Something like a race with reality:
sometimes my destination
and sometimes my opponent.