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All I Want for Christmas is a Treadmill

Should make these for humans.
Should make these for humans.


OK, maybe not all. I’m always in the market for movie tickets. I drop hints every year, but never get them. Also books. My two favorite authors – James Patterson and Patricia Cornwell – both have new murder-mysteries out, and I can’t remember the last time I read for pleasure. I’d prefer actual books to a Kindle download, but if anyone’s willing to get me a Kindle, I’ll adapt.


As long as I can read the books on my treadmill.

 Sure, I’ve been walking outside, but as you may have heard, the Southeast was hit with some truly cold temps, and nothing is going to make me go outside when it’s barely 25 degrees. With a treadmill, I can exercise any time, even jog without fear of public ridicule. Even better, I can do it while catching up on the news, or on my reading. The best thing is, if I don’t make it to the gym, the whole day isn’t blown.


Like this morning’s Hamster Incident.

My plan was to get up early and head to the gym, with enough time left to return to the house and hop in the car with Bobby so he could drop me off at work. My son and daughter would share my car, per usual, all would be right with the world.

But you know what they say about the best-laid plans.

We first noticed Kayleigh’s downhill slide on Friday. Sky saw that her skin seemed flaky in spots, and she had a sore on her belly. Her fur looked odd, too. We Googled it, and concluded she had ringworm.


On Saturday, she seemed to be a little worse, but it was hard to tell. There were emergency, small-animal vets on call starting around $90, but Sky seemed to think Kayleigh would be fine until Monday. Ringworm is rarely fatal. Sunday, I could no longer look at the hamster; her condition had so greatly deteriorated. This morning, instead of going to the gym I called vet clinics, and we ended up going to the Avian and Exotic Animal Hospital, where we got the worst possible news: It wasn’t ringworm. It wasn’t mites or mange. It was cancer. Kayleigh was in pain and really, her quality of life was nonexistent. Skyler made the only humane decision possible. We both cried, then I dropped her off at home while I went on to work.

Which brings us back to the treadmill.

See, if I had one, I could come home from work, throw on some sweats, start dinner and hop on the treadmill while watching the evening news and waiting for the beef to brown, or something. the beef is browning and onions are getting tender. I could get in shape, get informed and have a fab dinner ready all at the same time.


Treadmills are pricey, though. Still, I’ve seen some on Craigslist that seem perfectly fine – and I’m a major fan of Craigslist. I don’t care if it’s new or gently used, so long as it runs.

And has a book holder.

Nothing lifts me out of a bad mood better than a hard workout on my treadmill. It never fails. To us, exercise is nothing short of a miracle.  ~  Cher


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Leslie J. Ansley is an award-winning journalist and entrepreneur who blogs daily for TheRoot. She lives in Raleigh, NC.


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