It lurked in the corner of the room, largely escaping notice. Well, if something taking up that much space could really escape notice. Nevertheless, it sat there watching. Patiently waiting for its chance to strike.
The day began like any other. I sat in a chair for several hours, and went home. But then I had the chance to literally stretch my legs and run. The fates had conspired, however, and the wind outside was gusting up to 30 mph. Until a few weeks ago, there would have been no choice—I run outside, or not at all. But now there was the evil machine in the corner calling to me. “There’s no wind here,” it gently hissed. “Look, there’s even a place to put a tablet so you can watch TV and run at the same time…” And so, to my everlasting regret, I succumbed to the siren song.
Then it began. To keep from disturbing the family beyond the noise the machine itself makes, I put in earphones, but with my arms moving my hands accidentally caught the cord and ripped them from my ears. They tangled with the cord of the kill switch, and it came off, stopping the treadmill. And every time I touched anything on the tablet, the treadmill took its chance to shut off, cackling softly. It also erased my progress, so I had no idea how far I had even run.
And then it happened.
In a fit of frustration, I kicked the metal support of the console (possibly shrieking like a girl) and immediately knew something horrible had happened. As I limped to a chair, I could still hear the dreaded machine mocking me. “Looks like I’ll be gathering dust for a while. You’re now just like everyone else with an exercise machine they never use. My work here is done.”
And the x-ray showed quite a stunning break in my big toe. Goodbye, Provo Marathon. Goodbye, goal of running 1,000 miles this year. Goodbye, endurance I had built up, being able to run 13 or more miles every Saturday. All because, in a fit of irrational rage, I lashed out at the evil machine.
But I will have my revenge. Oh, yes. I will have my revenge.