Welcome to Gully Brook Press

The website of freelance writer Gina
Giuliano

Please visit my site (by clicking the link) where you can read some of my short works, and view my virtual museum.


Friday.
In Huck Finn, Mark Twain writes, "there ain't no harm in a hound, no how."


Well - I did it - two 20 minute treadmill sessions so far. I am aiming for two days on, one day off - that will wind up being about four times per week, I think. And I am taking it really easy. Outside, I walk very fast. Most people don't like to walk with me because of my pace. But last time I tried a serious commitment to the treadmill, I hurt myself after only a few days. My thoughts would be, this is easy and boring, let me ratchet up the speed and incline a bit. And, maybe I'll try for five more minutes. It was stupid, as machines can do damage, and my ankle paid the price. This time around, I am going to be a lot more gradual in my approach. I am only doing .6/mile in 20 minutes, no incline, and I am stopping after 20 minutes until I'm really sure I can do more safely. In the past, I always stretched, but thought it was a drag, and I may have skimped. Now I am really spending more time on that part. So, it may not burn off that bag of cookies from last night, but I think I will be able to stick with it.

The treadmill is on an enclosed porch in the front of the house, and the door opens right on the sidewalk near the road. A few weeks ago I made some curtains that can be closed for the eight windows, because privacy is vital to the success of this endeavor. You can still see out of the front door, though, and there are two windows in the livingroom that look into the porch. My dogs, a beagle/collie named Rudy, and a basset hound named Sophie, stand on the livingroom furniture, look out those windows, and from there monitor all activity in the village. Now, Rudy is an extremely handsome dog - if I can figure out how I will add a photo of both dogs and the cat here (or you can visit my website) and he is also very good. It is clear that his ancestors were bird dogs whose function it was to call their human hunting partners from great distances. But as a modern American dog, Rudy now alerts all who care to listen (and I'm certain quite a few neighbors who don't) not about the next meal (he knows that comes from the market), but instead that there is a kid on a scooter going by, or that a human/dog combo joined by a leash is outside, or that Reuben, the next-door cat, is sunning himself. Big triggers: any sort of running, helmets, bicycles, adolescent boys, and the mail carrier. Rudy's woooo can be heard for miles, and from the treadmill, even with a Bare Naked Ladies CD blaring, it send shivers up the spine. Sophie, on the other hand, is happy to join in when "called," but she isn't all that concerned about cats or leashed dogs - she loves to patrol for all unknown humans who may be out there, trying to look at her, and (in her mind) probably get her, too.

Yesterday, I thought keeping the door open between the livingroom and porch would help. Rudy did seem satisfied, my cat Edna (who is generally quiet anyway) kept her distance from the loud scary machine, but Sophie decided to investigate all the normally off-limits areas near the treadmill. Problem is, she is a hotdog, and a very long one...and she goes places where she can't turn around. She is also very needy. Meaning I had to stop walking, turn it off, fold it up, and rescue her. And then start again. So today I decided to keep the door shut and instead do a little dance to the wooooo....(please hold up ankle).

One thing I have to move in order to open the treadmill is my blue recycling bin. I temporarily stuck it in the livingroom, with a trash bag filled with deposit bottles. Sophie believes all plastic bottles are toys, and so naturally what was she doing that I couldn't hear over din of the machine, and the CD, and the wooo? Scattering soda bottles all over the floor.