I never liked running. In fact, I can honestly say that I hate, loathe, detest, even abhor it. Running is one of those things that I would pretty much choose anything over. Lying on a bed of nails? No problem. Walking across white hot coals. Sign me up. Eating week-old sushi you forgot about in the back of your refrigerator? Just give me a moment to tie on a bib (and to cancel all of my appointments for the next three days).  But running? Running just for the sake of running or to keep in shape? Not no, but hell no!

Funny thing is, I’ve always been a pretty active person. Throughout my childhood and my middle and high school years, I loved playing volleyball, basketball and softball. I never minded the laps or sprints we ran to warm up, or running up and down the court or around the bases during games. Heck, I was even on the track team for a few years, though I only willingly participated in long jump, high jump, discus and the occasional shot put event. I say “willingly participated” because I had a coach that liked to sign me up for running events and relays without my permission. After the third or fourth time that happened (even after I told her that under no circumstance would I participate should she try it again), I quit the team and decided that my days playing high school sports were officially over.

When I was pregnant with Cadence and the unbearable heat of the Arizona summer was pretty much confining us to the house, Steven and I decided to buy a treadmill. It made perfect sense at the time. My dear husband loves to run. He ran on the Cross Country team in high school, and even though it has been years since he has run consistently, he can still manage to run a mile or two without even appearing winded.

Show off.

I’m lucky if I can make it to the end of the block without giving up.

Nevertheless, we figured a treadmill was the perfect choice. Steven could run to his heart’s content without getting heat stroke in the desert, and I could walk, add a little resistance by walking on an incline, or even jog a little if I was feeling particularly squirrely that day.

The big joke is that a treadmill is the most expensive clothes hamper or storage shelf you’re ever going to buy. Most people tend to use them for a week or two, and then they just sort of start collecting dust in the corner. I have to say, we actually stuck with it longer than a lot of other people might have. Steven definitely got a lot of good use out of it. As for me, my walking/jogging fell by the wayside toward the end of my pregnancy and after my c-section. I tried to pick it up again once my incision healed, but life just seemed to get too busy with a newborn, a new business, and some steady writing assignments.

Since the move to Nebraska, Mr. Treadmill has been banished to a corner of the garage. Right now, we just don’t have room for him anywhere in the house. Plus, I’ve realized that I just don’t have a whole lot of motivation to work out when there is only a treadmill involved. Give me an elliptical machine, an assortment of free weights or weight machines in the gym, or a pool to swim laps in and I am perfectly content to work out every day without complaint. Give me a pair of rollerblades or a bicycle and I can spend an entire afternoon touring the town. But stick me on a treadmill where I am forced to run or walk mindlessly in place (even with a TV or music for distraction), and I’m lucky to make it 10 minutes.

So, now that we made the decision to join the YMCA and exercise regularly there, it is time to say goodbye to Mr. Treadmill. He’s been good to us, but it’s time for him to move on now. I’m sure he will make someone else very happy.

Today’s 365 Project entry is dedicated to our dear friend, Mr. Horizon Treadmill. It’s been nice knowing you. We promise to find you a really good home.

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