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  • Brianna Welch

Treadmill Musings - by Brianna Welch

I teeter between thinking I am a writer...I can write decent...I'm excited about writing!...I suck at writing and I don't even want to entertain it. I have found that the most real, true, authentic writing has come when I didn't force or fight it or try to neatly package it. The times that I enjoy writing the most are when it is in the moment; visceral feelings that embody my present experience, the messy, all-over-the-place thoughts. The first time I wrote like this I was probably 8 years old laying on the green of a golf course after one of my training runs with my mom. And I remember it to this day:

As I lie on the grass

Holding hands with my mom

I watch the clouds pass

And I feel so very calm

There air is so cool

But inside I feel warm

Like a tropical green pool

In which my body takes form

As the trees surround me

My mom and I share

The togetherness of we

And the moons bright glare

This type of cathartic writing is a space that I am returning to, but also a new world to venture into and explore. It will require me to let go of my perfectionist tendencies, to give in to the organic, to feel my body, take in the space around me, and truly be mindful of each moment I let my running have me. I look forward to this challenge of believing in my creativity, of taking risks, of having confidence in my writing, of sharing and being vulnerable and of building a collection of all of the moments we often miss because of a preoccupation, and sometimes obsession, with where we have been and where we want to be.

It is the space between: the past and the present -- the before and after -- the what was and what will be. The the process, the little things, the pieces that make up the whole -- the appreciation of each small moment of the journey -- that make it all worth it.


Treadmill Musings

Aloe Blacc’s, I Count On Me

My sister said it reminds her of me

“I’ve been knocked around, pushed to the ground

people try to hold me down”

Feel the bass in my chest

Aligning with my heartbeat

Hail pelts on the window

$200 rickety treadmill it is

“..Through the fire, through the rain

I count on me

And that's the way it's going to be”

Through sweat drenched hair blocking my view

The red dots light up the dashboard

Little fires burning

Feet scrape the front

As if I’m trying to beat the treadmill but have nowhere to go

I’m too fast

It’s not fast enough

Two small knots in my glutes

A reminder of lost time, lost strengthening

An indicator of new habits, new progress, new beginnings

Green and orange pool noodles hang on the wall

The bass pounds on

But they hold my focus

Sweat beads hanging tight to the sides of my forehead

Following the shadows that look as if they were painted on the wall keeps me busy

Crap treadmill shakes under my weight

Belt spinning towards the side

Will it catch before my run is complete?

Rob me of my 45min of freedom

I feel the pull on my chests and shoulders

Upper body work did its job

Onto the balls of my feet

A welcomed pep in my step

Laser focused, a dot the size of sand

Throwback to BU racing last winter

Warmup beats of Dancing in the Moonlight pound in my ears

I notice the stretch of my stride


Turning over

I’m a wheel -- spinning round and round like clockwork

My theme song

So Am I







You got this

Turned all the way up


So I can’t hear myself think

Despite sore legs pulling, tightening, fatigued

I feel like I’m floating, it's effortless

Until you step off and the muscles squeeze tight, yelling at you to take care of them

Cherish the days when it comes easy

I am a metronome -- seems like this can go on forever

But then


The clock ticks from 7.8 to 7 to 6 to 5 to 4

Til we are rolling to a snails pace

Already over? Finally done.

Mixed thoughts

Warming down

Walk it off

Headphones still in

In my own world

Despite the loneliness, heartbreak, discomfort, pain, loss

I choose to be in this world every time

Hands reach for earbuds

..Do I want to step back into this madness

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