As I shared some time with you yesterday, I realized how much I love you lately and that I owe you an apology. I used to dread spending time with you and chuckled when anyone called you the "dreadmill." I'm so, so sorry. I no longer dread you, and promise to never call you by that unkind name, even when we go through a rough patch, which is bound to happen now and again.
I also want to say thanks for always being there. When it's so hot outside that I don't even want to go get the mail, you are there. When there don't seem to be enough hours in the day and the only time I can slip on my running shoes is while my girls nap, you are there. When the day has faded into darkness and the thought of running outside scares the bajeebies out of me, you are there. When I need you, you are there.
Last but not least, you deserve mad props for what you help me do. Many of my runs wouldn't be the same without you. You force me to push myself; you won't let me slow down; you don't let me quit.
The bottom line is without you I would not and could not be a runner. Thank you treadmill.