Then, the other night, I was on my half of the loveseat (loveseat... more like a “keep your filthy hands to yourself seat”) reading while Cupcake was watching her favourite show, Criminal Law and Order Mind Scene Investigators or some such. Suddenly my attention was drawn to an ad for a treadmill that was inexpensive, fold awayable, easy to set up and, did I mention, inexpensive?
I know Cupcake is always concerned about her health and thought the treadmill would be just the thing to help her keep fit and so, be a mighty fine birthday surprise. However, just to be sure, I talked to my buddy, Pete, about it. He’s quite a bit older than me and wise in many ways.
“You’re buying Cupcake a treadmill as a gift?” he snorted beer out his nose in astonishment. “To put it delicately, old chum, are you out of your freaking mind? That would be about as popular as a wicker toilet.”
“I was only thinking of her health, I swear!” I defended myself. “I’m sure she would see it in that light. She was thrilled when I got her all that Oil of Oo-lala anti-aging goop at Christmas. She better have, at that price. The point is, she didn’t think I got it for her because I think she’s old looking... ”
“Face cream is something she’s been putting on for decades. She hasn’t had much to do with exercise equipment since that incident with the mini trampoline. Frankly, I’m sure she’d see a treadmill the same way as if you bought her a case of Slim-Fast,” he warned. “Would she buy you a carton of beer withdrawal patches? Look, if you really want to be certain the treadmill will be well received, maybe think of a way to bring it up without committing to it. Nonchalantly, you know?”
That night after Cupcake had gone to bed, I fired up the internet and found a page showing all the details of this fine piece of exercise equipment. I knew she’d see it when she would do her morning online Sudoku. I congratulated myself on my subtly.
“That’s a pretty good deal,” Cupcake enthused as she read it, while I mentally applauded my cleverness. “But you’re not thinking about this as my birthday present, I hope. It would be for all of us, not just me.”
“Well, there’s no way I’m going to unload that kind of dough on an impulse purchase AND buy you a present, too!” I protested.
The next day found me still in a quandary about what to buy her while lugging the huge treadmill box into the house. With sweat pouring down my face I wondered briefly if they included a set of weights with the machine. At least I’m getting exercise from wrestling the stupid box, I thought grimly. Unpacking the unit proved as equally arduous as it was manoeuvring it into the dining room. Carefully cutting up the mass of cardboard, polyfoam and Styrofoam had me foaming at the mouth. It yielded an enormous pile of stuff to get rid of; two huge recycling bags worth and those suckers don’t grow on trees. Finally, it was all set up and had run the requisite hour to recalibrate the tread belt. I was ready to climb aboard. I estimate the unit had cost me about $500.00, including incidentals; new runners, a pair of gym shorts and a bottle of extra strength ibuprofen. This figure was important because I planned to motivate myself by keeping track of the cost per hour of the machine. The first hour may cost $500.00/hour but the second hour will halve that to $250.00/hour. My goal was to get the cost per hour lower than a gym membership. (Not that I’ve ever actually set foot in one since graduating from High School. I’ve always associated the word “gym” with humiliation, emasculation, and the only C’s ever on my report cards and have since avoided them religiously.)
My first trip on the journey to nowhere was exciting. I felt relief the lowest setting was too slow for me at one km/hr. Apparently it only had a top speed of 6 km/hr which was a problem for some people who had commented on it in the “consumer reviews”. When I fired it up to Warp Six, however, I knew it wouldn’t be of concern as I would never need it to go that fast. If I tried it on that speed, there’d be a perfect impression of me in the drywalled wall behind the thing.
Epilogue: We’ve had the thing for two full days and three evenings. So far, the cost per hour is $1500.00. But, hey, I’ve been busy!
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