So I'm happily cleaning my bedroom (well, that's not entirely true--I'm not happy about it) when suddenly I ram my foot into something--steel. After the dog and I stop howling (yes, she's deaf, but she can howl with the best of them), I decide to investigate what in the world I had stumbled upon. I start peeling through mounds of clothing and bedroom debris, tossing things this way and that to uncover the mystery to my throbbing toe. To my everlasting shock you will never guess what I found! A treadmill!! Who knew?
I think I must have covered it the first week of January 2007. (By the way, that's a great way to get rid of those irritating New Year's Resolutions things--out of sight, out of mind, all that.)
Still, there it sits in all its exposed glory, so I have to do something about it, right? I mean, seriously, can you look your treadmill in the, well, handlebars and not feel guilty on New Year's Day? Exactly.
I step onto the runner and turn it on (are you hearing the theme song for Chariots of Fire?). I totally get that I'm not at my wedding weight. I understand I've put on a few pounds since last January. Maybe even since last week. Okay, since yesterday. But please. The sound this thing is making is the magnitude of a national alert.
All right, the truth is that after five minutes, I don't know which is making the most noise, the treadmill or me. (That missing lobe thing, you know.) Anyway, I decide I've done my civic duty and I grab a bag of Oreos.
My New Year's Resolution this year? Dust and polish that thing then cover it up for another year.
So what's yours?