Did you know that the definition of millstone is a heavy burden a.k.a. “a treadmill?” Yes, Im kidding but isnt it the truth!
Yes, like millions of homes (or in our case garages), we have a treadmill. Notice I use the verb have and not use. This particular model (and I must confess, there have been others) started out in Atlanta, joined us in Birmingham, enjoyed the gulf breezes in Pensacola, and is now residing in our Boca Raton garage. To say, its on life support is putting it mildly. (Or should I say one step away from Craigs List.) And then, Carol gave me the sign, “Honey, its that time again, time to stop using the treadmill as a beach chair rack. Its time to bring the millstone back into the house and think about racking up a few miles.”
Of course, my first reaction was thats a ridiculous suggestion, its too heavy and we dont have the space. But, then I realized Id fallen into her trap. (Like a chess master, Carol has the ability to think about 5 steps ahead of me.) Because she then suggested we get rid of it totally. (You see, Carol is a notorious member of the “When in doubt, throw it out” gang. Whereas I fall comfortably between the “never throw anything out” and “keep it for at least 20 years” community.) But, she also is always dieting and looking for a way to drop extra pounds as painlessly as possible hence all of our treadmills. So, whats a guy to do? Like Solomon, I was given too equally distasteful choices throw out a perfectly good treadmill or move it back in and start using it. And although Ive recently gained a few pounds courtesy of a few too many French fries, the decision weighed heavily (pardon my pun) on my mind.
At what point, does it become more common sense to admit defeat and discard a purchase rather than pretend it still has possibilities? Unlike the IRS which tells us that after 7 years, we basically can discard everything including the kitchen sink, theres no ruling authority for extraneous purchases of exercise equipment. At least, if Carol and I were both in perfect physical condition and guaranteed to never regress to couch potato again, I would know the time was right to pitch it out. But you know, its sort of like the greeting cards we all buy for future occasions. We never can find them when we need them, so we always end up buying them again.
And so, fast forward to 48 hours later, the treadmill is residing in the guest bedroom and Carol is on the treadmill accruing mileage. While yours truly is in bed with a heating pad attached to his lower back. I guess the irony is, you have to be in shape to even get the treadmill into your house. Chances are, I won’t be walking upright for a few more weeks. But, hey, maybe I can play the sympathy card and get a new “toy.”
Charles Felix, Publisher
Did you know that the definition of millstone is a heavy burden a.k.a. “a treadmill?” Yes, Im kidding but isnt it the truth! 
