A part of all the moving around this month involved juggling items between the main house and my cottage. My 2′ x 6′ long table is now stored and replaced by a far more accommodating 41” round table. It’s not the drop leaf kitchen island cabinet with pub height chairs I envision – yet – but this certainly frees up more floor space.

And then Brother announced he must find a place for his mammoth treadmill.

After a quick flashback of me longing to walk during the last brutal winter and being wary of the upcoming summer heat, I told him, “I’ll figure something out.”  I was thinking it best to move stuff around before the floors are refinished. Besides, he could’ve sold the thing.

With all the bells and whistles of a gym-quality machine, his Healthrider Soft Strider Pro is wide and sturdy, so it’s heavy. And with the handy space-saving fold-up track it’s awkward to haul – especially over the gravel driveway.

After two days of the treadmill and its electronic controls waiting in the heat, the voices in my head got loud, “She canna take any more, Captain.  She’s gonna blow!”

Not willing to risk ignoring Scotty, I pushed at the dolly that my strong, fit brother used to ease it down the porch steps (I’ve learned not to ask things like why it stopped there). I decided to not risk another injury, threw a moving pad over it and reminded Brother the heat can ruin the electronics.

Ten days later I’d had sufficient time to obsess over a plan to move it myself.

With some boards over the gravel, an appliance hand truck noseplate positioned between the wheels (conveniently located under the heaviest part of the machine 😉 ), I slowly, carefully rolled the treadmill through the car door into the cottage. Don’t be impressed – it’s all about leverage. Fine. Leverage, balance and the luck of the Irish.

Once inside I needed to position that monolith for use with the least amount of effort. This was tricky. I need it where I can view my 32” television/computer monitor, but not obstruct the flow. Feng Shui, people.

So, this is the part where I realize the wheels that would ordinarily move the thing easily over the concrete floor are jammed, immovable. “Where’s the damn antimatter inducer, Chekov?”

That’s when I remembered a technique a friend described years earlier after her family had purchased a somewhat dilapidated farm house. After repeatedly asking her husband to fix stuff, and after a reasonable period, she’d craftily take matters into her own hands.

Like Farm Girl instructed, I pulled out my tool box and every power tool I could get my hands on, strategically placed them around the treadmill, close to the door only slightly obstructing the entry, and then I waited.

As Farm Girl said,

“nothing motivates men faster than the sight of  a woman with power tools.”

I’m not sure if I would actually have tried to fix the wheels myself or not, with or without the circular saw or grinder. But I am now convinced that

sometimes a good pretense makes the best offense.


That evening, after a pitcher of iced tea Brother had the treadmill rolling easily. I can now jog to my heart’s content while catching up on my favorite audio books, programs and movies.


“The Lord is good to those who depend on him, to those who search for him. So it is good to wait quietly for salvation from the Lord.” Lamentations 3:25, 26 (NLT)


Featured Image courtesy



Filed under Notes from the Apex

19 responses to “Pretention

  1. Pingback: Breathing | What Next: Behind Roo's Ruse

  2. Pingback: Crowing and Growing | What Next; Behind Roo's Ruse

  3. Pingback: Featured Posts – Share Your Post Links | a cooking pot and twisted tales

  4. Ha, ha! Sometimes it’s more of our wit and brains than brawn. A girl has got to do what she’s got to do.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Pingback: Featured Posts – Share Your Post Links | a cooking pot and twisted tales

  6. Pingback: Reason | What Next; Behind Roo's Ruse

  7. Hilarious! Thanks for the laughs. I hadn’t read instructions for “Motivating a Man”. I could never scare John with tools, but I’ll bet getting out paint cans would cause some action. Neither of us has ever seen me paint.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. This is exactly how I got the caulk replaced. With one variation. I recaulked the tub myself and I must admit it was my first time. It looked more like my toddlers had done it. I’d been waiting a few years so just figured I could DIY. John had my caulk job torn out and replaced (didn’t look much better but he was happy) within two days. These guys — we know them so well.


  9. I shouldn’t have read this at work (I think I frightened a couple coworkers with my laughter). The picture of the tools next to the treadmill is priceless. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  10. What a wonderful solution and great verse to accompany your dilemma.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I wonder how many people have been injured trying to move treadmills. Probably quite a few. We had to dismantle ours for the last move. I’m not sure I will ever reassemble the thing.

    Liked by 1 person

Your thoughts matter to me. Of course I'd like to hear from you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.