Be a Friend
This is our elliptical. We bought him last year in a fit of fitness rage. I was determined that having him here in our house would spur me on to greater things, and a lesser body.
Recently I told my family that Daniel is lonely. (I hadn't actually named him before this. Daniel was the first name that came to mind.) I told them that we all need to spend more time with him. His self-esteem is surely suffering. He has a purpose and we aren't allowing him to fulfill it. He's just standing there waiting for us to pay him a little attention. He's patient, and a bit dusty.
My daughter, Sadie, has taken him under her wing. She's been spending quality time with him every day. She watches Netflix on her phone while she sweats away. Never interested in being a cheerleader at school, she's become our own personal pep squad. "Rah, Rah, get your butt off the couch!"
I'm the worst offender. Poor Daniel must feel so unloved as I pass by him several times a day. I hardly give him a second glance. It's guilt, really. I know I should be waking up early to we can have some one on one time. I like him, I do. I mean, I don't really love to exercise, but if I'm going to do it, I prefer his type. He's easy on my plantar faciitis and works my hips like crazy.
My new goal is to be a better friend to Daniel. As much as I love my bed and staying cozy and warm as long as possible in the mornings, I will sacrifice to make him feel better about himself. And, hopefully, helping his self-esteem will also build mine.