A personal letter

Dean Elliptical Glider,


We have been together for a full week now. I remember, like it was yesterday, our first encounter. You looked so innocent, and yet somehow kind of easy. With your oversized foot platforms and easy to grip handles, I figured I was wasting my time getting to know you. In fact, I even felt foolish, to a degree. Almost even embarrassed. Was I settling for less with the attraction of possibly getting some mediocre mileage? Was I cutting myself short by opting for what seemed like the easier route?

I used to have a thing for Treadmill. But oh, how I have come to loath her and love her at the same time. In the end, she always hurt me. Sadly I knew this, and still I had returned for more and more abuse. But I can’t take the hurt any longer. I am stronger than that. I am smarter than that.

And so it was with trepidation and hesitancy I stepped on your spacious footpads and began turning your gears. And all your lights came on. You practically talked to me, letting me know it would be OK. You were there for me. You cared for me.

You asked me some personal questions, though, and this took me somewhat aback. You want my age? My weight you ask? Surely, these questions should be saved for a more prudent time? But here, in front of all these people? But again, you urged me to trust you, and so I told you. Then with the push of a button you promised me a few things.

I would reach my target heart rate. And when the going might seem like it’s a little tough, you promised you ease up. And if the going got to be a little too easy, you promised you wouldn’t let me slack. And so I began. I turned the wheels at a pretty good pace. And true to your word, you kept track of me, your helped me along, and together we achieved our goals. But, there where things you didn’t tell me.

You didn’t tell me it would take longer and longer to achieve my goal. You didn’t tell me you would make it harder and harder to achieve my goal. You didn’t tell me I would actually have to work. You led me into your den of tranquility, only to later turn on me and force me to succumb to your wily ways; that or be forces to give up a, go home.

But I will be strong; I will not be overcome by the adversity of this relationship. And I won’t give up on you. I know you mean well. Perhaps we need to learn to communicate better? Perhaps some counseling? Either way, Elliptical, I won’t be leaving you. I’ll stick by your side.

Love, Me