A weirdness overcame me on the treadmill today, only the fourth time I tackled exercise this past week. I sooked about getting on it, and I sooked the whole 5 laps aka 2kms. As punishment for my bad behaviour I made myself do another lap. Nasty.
Half way through that lap the supposed feel good endorphins must have kicked in, because I loosened up a bit. I wondered to myself if the extra lap was just to avoid getting into the waiting writing. I have antagonist scenes to write. I have a bloke to kill off … maybe. And while I was thinking about that, the extra lap finished but I decided to keep going. Before I knew it, I zoned out at the steady 5km per hour and spoke with my main girl T. That hasn’t happened before — ever!
My Miss T got stuck into me about my plans to kill off her love interest. I explained it would naturally force her into the arms of J’s brother D, for whom I thought she was getting the hots. She sneered at me, so what, she said, it was just once I had a bit of a perve. The wings threw me, I couldn’t help myself if my mind wandered to wondering what the front looked like. I owned up to J about that. She went red. (obviously I could see her too, only in my mind)
But J is a bit of a loser, you’ll be better of with D, I suggested. Yeah, she countered, but D is a bit keen on that bloody witch who kidnapped me. D isn’t innocent either, he was in on it.
But he’s trying to make up for that. And the bab… No, don’t go there! she said, I don’t want to talk about that. Well, actually, I didn’t want to talk about that either because I think twins in my fantasy novel might well be one cliché too many!
About this time I snapped out of the zone, wiped my perspiring brow and slogged on until 10 laps (5kms) flashed up on the running, ahem, walking track.