Sometimes the tread for that elusive consistency is what yields the most significant inertia.

If life doesn't go like the proverbial hamster wheel- there's still the opportunity to propel forward, albeit through an alternate venue.

On cold nights I can still go on the treadmill. Same for off-hours, the after-party to nosh-binges sessions, and post any activity that can use a productive burnout.

When it's too much to drive to and from the five towns to "get outta town," I can jump on the treadmill and still enjoy a smooth ride playlist. After a client submits feedback on a project, and I've archived the chat till morning, I can get in a sweat session and constructively release some of my pent-up feedback.

After my well-meaning grandmother asks me if I exercised recently as she force-feeds me a cheese danish, I can still run.

Comparatively, the treadmill reminds me of Tefilla. The koach of davening is always a sturdy force that makes me feel like I'm one step forward. Quoting Rav Chaim Zatzal, who stressed, "you never know which Tefilla will be the final one to your personal Yeshua."

The funny thing with treadmills is that it's not a science to weight loss. You can go on and not shed that much weight. It will help whittle, chisel, and tone, but in concrete evidence that a difference is made, the results are erratic and individually differ. But, like Tefilla, when your efforts are consistent, there's that one random Wednesday when you hop on the scale and see that the weight has shifted, lifted. 2.5 Lbs.

Unexpected, more than anticipated. You feel lighter, grateful. Because the treadmill worked, it worked. You showed up, and eventually, the weight was lifted.

Tefilla and Treadmills don't go together simultaneously, but maybe through similar efforts, their results yield the same lightness.

This post is inspired so wholly Liluy Nishmans HaRav Hagon Rav Chaim Kanievsky Zatzal; not in a cliché way, but because reading from Rav Chaim’s writings only lent that much more inertia to my mundane.