Years ago, I used to run . . . and I loved it. Didn't matter -- out in the fresh air, weather permitting, or indoors on a treadmill.
But as life happens and things change, time passes, more stuff happens, and well, on it goes. Somewhere in the midst of it all, the treadmill got sold.
Fast forward about 20 years. Now that I'm older and wiser (well, older for sure), my Dr says I need to lose some excess baggage, and the best way to do that, while strengthening my osteoporosis-prone bones, is to run.
Well, yeah, right. Gravity is no longer my friend.
So, I tried. Walking on the street proved to be an adventure, with all the unevenness, dogs, deer . . .and then there's the crazy drivers. . . . too hot, too cold, rain . . . wasn't happening consistently.
Hello, treadmill, my old friend. So, DH and I went shopping for a treadmill.
Basing my opinion sole on the answers to my questions, the first salesmen we first encountered has probably never stepped on a treadmill in his life.
Says he: This model will last you for the rest of your life (what? because the price is gonna give me a heart attack?) And there is no servicing required! Just dust some baby powder under the belt once in a while . . . .it'll make a mess, but it vacuums right up . . .. and it's a lot cheaper than that expensive silicone powder they want you to use.
We kept looking. Finally we found just what we were looking for.... a good machine and a knowledgeable salesman. To save $120 deliver fee, we had them load it in the back of our SUV. And they made the assembly sound so easy . . . all you have to do is place the base where you want it and attach the rails..... right! But then, they were both in shape, and a lot younger.
Getting it out of the SUV and into the house was a workout in itself. Considering that a major triumph, we let it sit over night as we considered what we'd gotten ourselves into.
So, yesterday, DH and I spent the day putting it together. A gazillion plastic bags and pieces of styrofoam. The Owners Manual and assembly guide. (Hey, DH actually reads the instructions!) Then there's a bunch of screws, nuts, bolts, oh and don't forget the washers . . . they're supposed to go on BEFORE the bolts get tightened down.
Hours into it, I was on my back looking up at the bottom of the handles telling DH which way to move them so we could match them up with the tiny hole in the metal handle that attached the rails to the uprights that we'd just inserted in the base....
After I figured out that I couldn't focus because I was trying to see close up (requiring the lower part of my trifocals) while looking through the distance (upper) part of my glasses. So, I tried getting up on my hands and knees, and twisting my head around while looking up. That was worse.
Meanwhile, DH was twisting and bending above me, trying to line up the holes . . . .
Finally, we got lucky. No more parts to attach.
When it was all put together and ready to go, we were both exhausted, grunting and groaning. As DH was bent over, helping me up off the floor, h e says, with all the bending and twisting and weird positions we've be in trying to get this thing together, you'd think we could have some pretty wild sex.
Oh, the irony of it all . . .
Anyway, here's to great expectations!