Bringin Sexyback (Pt. 1)

I found a machine that loves me for me.

It doesn't clown me like the treadmill does when I say I can do two miles.

It doesn't squeak at me like the elliptical machine when I try to gain some speed.

We started talking this week, and never looked back.

Welcome into my life, oh lovely machine.

It's like a one night stand. I go. I get on. I step back afterward to allow what just transpired to linger a bit longer. Then, I leave.

I'd seen it around before, but failed to strike up a conversation. My love affair with the treadmill was in its early stages, and I didn't dare stray, for fear of retaliation.

Now, she's letting me wander.

I've tried the elliptical machine. I've even tried the nature trail by the house. All have been good to me, no doubt. But I still felt empty.

Thus my retreat from the gym around July. I was working like a slave and leaving time for nothing else. Then that 20 lbs I'd taken off started creeping back up. Before I'd totally lost my grip on "under where I started at," I forced myself back to the workout sanctum.

And I met her.

I'm hooked on this machine.

I don't even know her name yet, but what she does to me...