I've mentioned before that I'm looking for different fitness options. I've been toying with joining gyms, hiring personal trainers and also, doing the Couch to 5K thing, but then it occurred to me that I should choose something that will work best for me. I really truly hate going to the gym. I try to put on a brave face, try not to feel self-conscious when I'm by myself, but in reality, I'm actually a shy person. My friends all say that I'm popular but I think I purposely cultivate an army of friends so that I won't feel awkward and alone in crowds. So the gym thing? Maybe someday, but right now, not so much. Plus, the time-management thing. For the foreseeable future, my hours of free time are going to be mostly non-existent and without multi-tasking, I would be screwed. I have meetings while driving. I do blog posts while on conference calls. To make this perfectly clear, I probably couldn't get my homework for graduate school done if I didn't do it while going to the bathroom.

So, I'm being very Zen about this, and going to not set this up for failure. It's not realistic of me to plan to set aside 5 hours a week to drive to a gym, work out, and then drive home. I just don't have that much wiggle room. And when I think back to the last time I had significant success with losing weight (75 pounds, that have crept back and then some over the course of 4 years), it was through packing my lunch with healthy stuff, eating at least 5 fruits and veggies a day, and also, taking walks every morning. Every morning. Without fail! Even if it was only fifteen minutes, I got out there and walked off a block or two. I am a problem solver by nature, so the elemental conclusion here is to buy a treadmill. One that I can set up in a spare bedroom and walk walk walk to my heart's content while watching TiVo or surfing the web via laptop. Brilliant! I can do this!

First job: find a treadmill. I didn't want a piece of shit, because let's face it, I'm heavy and I'm tall, so it has to ideally be comfortable and potentially allow me to jog at some point, and dare I say it, run. What is more, I have had some pretty severe knee injuries and have arthritis in my joints, so I wanted something that was comfy squishy nice on my 87-year-old's knees and hips. But I consider the fact that if I were buying a gym membership for the use of a treadmill, I would end up spending $2,000 over the course of a couple of years and with the purchase of a treadmill, then Esteban could use it too. Win win win!

I investigated. It seems that many treadmills are made for 5'2" cheerleader types that weigh 110 pounds. I'm not going to make a comment about making treadmills for people who don't need treadmills, but clearly I needed to employ my Google-Fu. I ended up finding a Landice model that holds up to 500 pounds, running, and has a super long deck for long strided tall people. Rock! The downside: it costs more than my first three cars--combined.

I called some local treadmill places and they did indeed have them in stock, but tried to convince me to get different machines instead. "Better!" the sales dork said, "Cheaper! Sexier!" I pulled up the stats on the web while talking to him and saw that the treadmill in question was rated for a lower weight than the one that shows up on my scale. "Er,  I want a GOOD one." I said, not really knowing how to sit in my cubicle, surrounded by coworkers and explain to this sales dork that I envision stepping onto a lesser treadmill and then hearing warning buzzers and perhaps smoke coming out from under the belt, and then the control panel will flash in big red letters: "FAIL." No thanks. Finally, I just said "You know, I'll just come IN and take a look, ok?" 

I went in and found my Landice model on their floor. He tried selling me a slightly wimpier version, with a 400-lb. limit. I am on the cusp: sure, it's cheaper and sure, it would work without a problem, but again, I really don't want to worry that the size of my ass will DEFY a very expensive piece of machinery, okay? Like, I already have so much confusion and trauma built into the whole fitness thing that I don't want to wonder if my treadmill is going to be shuddering in horror whenever I walk into the room with my iPod playlist queued up. Finally, I gave the best excuse ever, which every guy in the world bows down to without question: "I'll talk to my husband and see what he says." Poor Esteban. I blame him whenever I don't want to explain my decision-making process. He has no idea.

So I think I'm about to own a treadmill, which means I need some new shoes and also a fan and maybe a small LCD television hooked up to a mystery channel that only plays techno and dance videos. And a headband so that I can really focus when I'm grooving out to the remix of "Xanadu." Wish me luck. --Weetabix