A New Kind of Workout

I love the eliptical trainer. It is an instant gratification machine. You tell it how hard a work out you desire, and it complies, keeping track of the time and then reporting just how many calories you have burned. I can run on the eliptical without danger of black eyes or a knee blow out. It is a most magical machine.

In the ideal world, a work out is just me, the magic machine, and my ipod for 35 happy sweaty minutes. I work hard to let off steam and the lovely endorphins are my pay back. Most lovely.

I rarely get an ideal workout. Mostly, my workouts are punctuated by requests from the no-longer-tiny tyrant that I open snack foods, admire his artwork, or review his TV viewing options. Sometimes, I do all three at once from my sweaty perch on the machine. I can cope with bad workout days because the end reward is still pretty good but lately the machine has been issuing a piercing loud rhythmic whine ----- like a teapot whistle on steroids. It's shrill and annoying and was really reducing my workout pleasure. I have no idea how to fix this sound. I told Lisa about it last weekend and she nodded, as if to imply that she was listening to me. Of course, what I meant was "please fix the eliptical" but what I said was "it's making a noise" and so, of course, what she heard was "it's making a noise." I digress and that is material for another posting...... My response to the noise: turn up the sound on the ipod so as to allow the Bee Gees singing "Saturday Night Fever" to drown out the noise or, alternately, destroy my hearing, thus rendering the noise the least of my problems.

I got home from work late yesterday afternoon and so I started my workout just as Lisa was also unwinding from the day. We had already agreed to feed the little beast and eat our own supper later. Lisa set about feeding the monster and I got on the eliptical trainer. Soon, the eardrum piercing noise began. I turned up the ipod but within seconds Lisa arrived, armed with WD-40 and on a mission. She began spraying every part of the machine that could benefit from a little lubrication while instructing me to run forward, then backward, then faster, than slower. I complied. Within seconds the irritating noise had been banished from my workout. In its stead were the powerful fumes of aerosol oil. So I finished my workout with the added benefit of the smell of WD-40.

I was huffing and working out at the same time. Awesome.