Going the Extra Mile (Treadmill Edition)

During every guided run with the Coaches from the NRC app, they always say: “I’m going to stop the run at [the stated distance or time]. If you want to keep running, just press the resume button. If you’re done, hold down the finish button after I’m done talking.”

Almost every time I hear that line, I mumble to myself, “Yeah, right,” because why in the world would I want to go longer than I planned? Out of the approximately 200 runs I’ve done with NRC over the years, I’d guess I’ve continued past the expected distance or time only a handful of times.

So, this makes yesterday’s run quite the exception.

For starters, I actually felt motivated to run a little longer. Not long, just longer than the usual distance I’ve been covering lately—around 2.5 miles. I’ve done a couple 5Ks recently, but only one run has been over 3.5 miles. So when I went to pick a guided run, I looked for a 40-minute one. Instead, I found a 35-minute recovery run with Coach Bennett called Running For More: Joy—and realized it was perfect.

As I’ve mentioned before, it’s incredibly hot here in Texas, and there are only a few hours of daylight that feel remotely cool enough to run (for me, at least). I don’t do morning runs, and I had plans at night, so I needed a midday option. I headed to the gym, which is rare for me, but luckily, I was in the mood, so I knew it would probably be an okay run.

Anyway—I do not enjoy treadmill running. I’ve always found it more difficult, even though people say outdoors is tougher because of the terrain. I feel like I have to focus more on the treadmill just to keep my balance. If my mind starts to drift, I start running weird or losing my form. I also can’t look around while running on a treadmill. I don’t know why, but I’ve noticed I run best if I keep my focus either straight at the dashboard (which is annoying because I’m watching every second tick by) or straight ahead.

I’m also so much more aware of my legs. I don’t even know how to explain this in a way that makes sense, but it feels like my legs are doing two different things. My left leg feels like it’s on a bike, while my right leg feels like it’s on a treadmill. That probably makes zero sense, but it always makes me feel insecure that my running form might be off—even though I try to maintain proper form. I also struggle with pacing. Despite being able to run a 9:45 pace outside, I can’t start at that speed on a treadmill. Earlier this year, I was starting around 5mph (a 12:00 pace) and slowly increasing as I warmed up. There’s just something about the machine moving that makes the pace feel faster than it is.

So yesterday, I started the 35-minute run at a 10:30 pace—which felt right for a recovery run. To be honest, I’ve probably been running too fast on recovery runs lately, so I get why Coach Bennett and NRC suggest 10:30 for my usual pace. And I felt incredible. The first mile flew by. While I was aware of my legs in the usual treadmill way, I didn’t feel any pain or exhaustion. My breathing was completely under control, and I was cruising. If I were outside, I’d naturally be picking up the pace—so after one mile, I did. Over the next mile, I slowly increased the pace until I reached 10:00.

After the second mile, I already knew I wasn’t going to stop when the 35 minutes were up. That’s when the rare exception kicked in—because I knew when Coach paused the run, I was going to press resume and keep going until I hit 4 miles. I felt so good. From mile 2 to 3, I kept increasing the speed—going from a 10:00 pace to 9:50, then 9:40, and eventually 9:15ish. It was bizarre—it all felt so effortless. For the last quarter mile, I kept bumping up the speed and finished the run at an 8:30 pace.

I finished feeling fantastic. Honestly, I probably should’ve kept going. I rarely feel that good on a run, and it would’ve been a great opportunity to hit 5 miles. But I’ll take the win.

The overall pace ended up being 9:55, which is solid. This run was a perfect example of how much faster I’m getting. The fact that I was able to pick it up that much at the end shows I probably could’ve run faster the whole time. But I think this is one of the first runs where I actually ran a recovery pace the way I’m supposed to—and it worked.

Another thing I kept thinking about while running was how people who don’t run (or haven’t been running for long) perceive distance. I remember when my friend told me he ran a 10K, then quickly said, “I know that’s not a lot for you, but it’s the longest I’ve run in forever.” I immediately told him how impressive it was—especially on a treadmill.

Just because I’ve run longer distances doesn’t mean every shorter distance is easy. I still have 2-mile runs that absolutely suck. I still feel horrible after running too fast in a 5K. After my first half marathon, I was on such a high that I wanted to go long again the next week. I planned to run 9 miles (easy, right?) and ended up stopping at 3 because I was just over it.

There are so many components to running. Just because you can cover 15 miles doesn’t mean 6 miles is a walk in the park. Sure, you may feel more confident or in control—but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Like I’ve said before, I’m looking forward to the day when 30-minute runs feel like a breeze, but I’m not there yet. Eventually, 3 miles might feel easier, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that 3 miles is still a real distance.

One of the weirdest things to explain to non-runners is that finishing a run doesn’t usually make me think, “Wow, I could’ve kept going.” When I was training for my last marathon, one week I’d run 5 miles and feel completely done—then the next week, I’d run 6 miles and somehow make it through. It never made sense. Same thing with the actual marathon: the longest run I did beforehand was 16 miles (not the smartest move). I was so destroyed after that run that I had to get picked up—I couldn’t even walk home. But a few weeks later, I ran the full 26.2 without stopping. Running is weird.

I’ve gone on a lot of tangents in this post because there were so many layers to this one run. I hate treadmills—yet had a lovely treadmill run. I think it’s insane to go longer after a guided run ends—yet I did it. I also had many thoughts about the perception of distance and runners. While I didn't go into this, I did really enjoy the content of this particular run. It focused on joy: thinking about what brings it (for me, it’s walks, mountains, trees, thunderstorms, my friends, music), and how we steal it from ourselves. That guided reflection made the run fly by. Overall, some runs are just better than others.