In my last triathloning column, I discussed heat acclimation.
On Monday, I irritated my iliotibial (IT) band, and now my left knee hurts bad enough to keep me off the streets. I’ve previously written about eating through injuries, and this time, I at least have an alternative form of exercise available: swimming. The worst part about running injuries is not not (excuse the double negative, not) being able to run; the second worst part is confinement to the treadmill during rehab. Treadmills pervert the very purpose of running—instead of moving forwards, the treadmill forces the runner to remain stationary. In fact, treadmills originated as a method of disciplining prisoners. Following a 1779 prison reform act, English prisoners were required to perform “labor of the hardest and most servile kind.“ To meet this strange regulation, William Cubbitt designed an ingenious device that forced inmates to walk on belted platforms, simultaneously operating a mill. Sydney Smith described the 19th century treadmill as “irksome, dull, monotonous, and disgusting to the last degree.” In The Ballad of Reading Gaol, Oscar Wilde puts it a bit more poetically: “We banged the tins, and bawled the hymns / And sweated on the mill.” Since the mid-19th century, the word treadmill has also meant any exhausting work that leads nowhere. Unless you have a lake, sea, ocean, or similarly expansive body of water within easy reach, swimming resembles running on a treadmill. Moving back and forth across the pool, you endlessly traverse the same territory—the illusion of progress merely disguises a kind of numbing stasis. Continue reading
