Ode to the Treadmill: A Love Letter to the Machine we Love to Hate
We call you the dreadmill. Satan's sidewalk. The hamster wheel of death. So many mean names for a belt, a motor and a few bleep bloops. We audibly sigh when someone mentions you. Sometimes when we think of you we shiver at the memories of going so far yet going nowhere at all. Many of us will go out of our way to tell our friends how much we hate you, that we never want to see you again. I know it hurts to hear these things, but I have a secret to tell you. Deep down inside, in the depths of what drives us to run in the first place, down in that place that makes us go when we want to stop, we love you. Yes. That's right. We love you. I know this is strange to hear. We never tell you. Even if we did tell you, you wouldn't hear us over the cursing of our friends. The thing is, you are always there for us. Our stories are written on your weathered tread. The working mother who wakes up at 5 AM to get her miles in before the stresses and responsibilities of the day begin. The s