The stages of a long run on a treadmill

The stages of a long run on a treadmill

There are few things that make your blood run cold like looking out the window on a morning after a long run to see freezing rain, hurricane force winds, or a blizzard dumping snow on the ground every hour. Why? Unless you're particularly brave and a little crazy, these are the only extreme weather conditions that force you to hit the gym - and the treadmill - instead of the wide open roads. Slogging through a half-hour run on the treadmill is bad enough, but when you have more than 13 miles on the plan? Kill. Me. Now. We know your pain all too well. (Plus, long runs hurt like hell, runners say.) These GIFs pretty much show what you can expect.

Stage 1: “I got this!”

So you'll be on the treadmill for a few hours. That's just like five episodes of Friends or one ad of Bridesmaids. You can read a book on your KindleI. You are good. Toooooo good.

Stage 2: “I have this…”

Boredom sets in. You quickly look under the towel you've placed on the monitor to see how long you've been jogging - it's already five minutes. That's good. You're okay. You can turn on the upbeat playlist you created just for this situation.

Level 3: “I fucking hate this.”

No, this will be even worse than expected. Your legs hurt, your lungs burn, the safety rails on the treadmill are closing in on you... But you can't stop yet; The hottie on the treadmill next to you, casually plodding six-minute miles, saw you come in, he'll know you barely lasted a mile. (Fact: Hot guys—especially hot sneakers—are the best motivation.)

Level 4: “I fucking hate everyone.”

Okay, he's hot, but he also has the loudest sneakers ever. You have to stop yourself from reaching over and pressing the emergency stop button on his machine to silence it. And don’t even get me started on the woman sitting on the hip abduction machine chatting on her cell phone – doesn’t she see “no cell phones” signs everywhere?? Just thinking about your non-runner friends sleeping in or making brunch plans is enough to make you the Hulk...

Stage 5: “I think I see light.”

Okay, there is hope. Your legs have loosened up, you have settled into a happy pace, you have found E! on your treadmill's built-in TV. You're a quarter of the way there! You have this.

Level 6: “I feel great!”

The onset of a runner’s high washes over you. (That's not a joke. Research shows that the runner's high is as strong as a drug high.) Why don't you run on the treadmill more often? This is amazing - you're protected from the elements, you don't have to wear anything, there's eye candy all around you, there's a TV... What more could a girl need?

Level 7: “I actually want to die.”

You make the mistake of looking under your towel again. You're a quarter of the way there... Still. Is the thing broken?

Level 8: “I can eat when this is over.”

Daydreaming about brunch will boost your mood. Your friends will wait until you finish eating, right? You won't even waste time showering, you'll stumble off that godforsaken machine and straight to your favorite spot. Who cares if you get weird looks, you just finished a long run on a treadmill, damn it! (Psst... We've decoded what to eat after a long run or other type of workout.)

Level 9: “Do you remember outside?”

If you imagine exactly where you would be on your usual route if the weather didn't keep you indoors, it might be less mind-numbing. First you just need to check how many miles you have earned...

Level 10: “Damn.”

Stage 11: “Is this chick a race with me?”

She's totally racing with me. That's not really fair considering she just came in and I'm more than halfway through a long run, but good. Maybe I could increase my speed a little...

Level 12: “Ugh.”

Despair. The woman you raced with is gone. The hottie is gone. There is only you and the relentless, unforgiving pound of your own footsteps on this soulless machine. There's a Keeping Up With the Kardashians marathon on TV and you can't even muster the energy to change the channel. Life is bleak.

Level 13: “I can do it.”

Finally a glimmer of hope. You're on the home stretch - just a few more miles and you can get off the treadmill. You start fantasizing again about all the things you're going to eat. Bagels and cream cheese and eggs – oh my!

Level 14: “I can do it!”

Now you're feeling cocky and even beating yourself up for not running faster or setting the incline a little higher. You're still running, but the pain from the last two hours is already easing. (It's not in your head. Science shows that your brain forgets marathon pain super quickly.)

Level 15: “I can’t do this.”

It's back. The pain is back. You grit your teeth. Just one. More. Mile.

Level #16: *wordless bliss*

You're done! You did it. You can't wait to get off that stupid treadmill, but you don't trust your legs to support you down the step. They will tolerate a five-minute cool-down walk.

Level 17: “Never again.”

You don't care what the weather is next week, you'll never do a long run on the damn treadmill again. Whose idea was that?

Level 18: “Brunch?”