My treadmill and I have an incredibly tumultuous relationship. It's very Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown-esque, you see. Sometimes we love deeply, other times we fight intensely. But, at the end of the day the fact remains that I need the treadmill in order to remain a sane, functioning member of this society. No, really: I am the most terrible, awful
Our issues typically come to a head in the winter months, what with the fact that there is little sunlight remaining when I arrive home from work. That, and I do not have any interest whatsoever in waking up early during the week to run outdoors by myself. Mostly because I treasure my sleep, but also because I have a
But enough about my personal paranoia.
Our treadmill is located in the basement, which means that it really does not need to be terrible for any other reason than that. No one wants to hang out in the basement, except the dogs who spend most of their day down there in cages. They clearly didn't even have a say in the matter, either.
To make matters worse,
Whatever works, right?