helllooooooo, treadmill.

get ready, it's your time.
Who's running on Friday?? THIS GIRL! I have never been so happy to lace up for a jaunt on the treadmill. I've been behaving, going to pilates, doing my PT homework, taking spin classes and not running; so as a reward for my stellar efforts, my physical therapist has suggested a little jog on the treadmill in my running shoes (more specifically, the shoes I was sporting when my little snafu occurred...) at Friday's session.

In my mind, this is how it will go:
I step on the treadmill and pump the speed up to 4.5.

Impressed by my skill and flawless ability, the therapist recommends stepping it up to a 5 and working in some hills.

Once I master that for a mile, she instructs me to do a nice tempo run at a 6 to ease myself back into the running game and leaves me alone with some Britney tunes my iPod for the next four miles.

I hop off the treadmill and she says "You're cured! Please pay your co-pay on the way out".

I'm going to be pretty bummed if reality differs greatly from my completely logical expectation of Friday's visit because I'm hoping and praying planning to be released to traverse the land with my Mizunos on my feet and Garmin on my wrist.