Well, okay, maybe not all that risky in the end. But still and all.
It occurs to me that when one is learning/relearning to run, one gets a sense of exactly how long a minute is. Except for those occasional moments when one actually isn’t thinking about it. Funny, but I have more of those when zombies are chasing me, too.
Also, it’s so much easier to run in the Southwestern U.S. in autumn that summer. If the zombie apocalypse happens in summer, this whole part of the country is doomed. Unless the zombies consent to chase us all on treadmills. This seems … unlikely.
Maybe that’s why running on a treadmill never feels quite right, after all.