The Programmer And The Treadmill

I’m searching for a treadmill. Running is the only exercise that counters my cake, pie, donut, and soda addictions. My weakness (besides sugar): I hate the cold, and it has been damn cold on the east coast this week. So I did some research and set out to try a few models, programmer in tow. My husband is not a runner, in fact, he hates running as he’s always instantly attacked by the dread shin splint demon. (Me, I’m a freaking Clydesdale-no shin splints, turned ankles, or pulled hammies). Anyway, my husband doesn’t need to run, he’s a toothpick. I’m always trying to feed him (but the care and feeding of a programmer is fodder for a whole slew of other blog posts).

Back to my convoluted story. My husband was just along for the ride because we were going to get dinner afterward. I’m grilling the salesperson while my programmer is grumbling at the television hanging from the ceiling (his football team lost in the playoffs).

The salesperson utters the words of death: “This model has several programs and can keep track of your progress.”

No shit, I could hear my husband’s neck crack he swung his head around so fast. “It has programs?” he asked, his gaze instantly glued to the treadmill’s console.

I started waving my hands, ineffectively. “No, no-you can’t program it that way,” I said.

But it was too late. He was pressing buttons, trying things out, and I could imagine where his brain was going…”it has buttons, it has a motherboard, it has a display, I wonder if I can load Linux on it”.

Hubby says the next evil words, “maybe I will use it.”

Gleefully, the salesperson suggests the next model up as there will now be two runners.

I don’t need the next model up. What I need is two treadmills. One for me to run on. One for my husband to load Linux on.

Words of wisdom: Don’t take your programmer shopping for anything with circuitry, no matter how uninterested they seem in the product. You never know what convoluted plan their brain will concoct after hearing the sales pitch.