My secondhand treadmill has successfully held up winter gear and wet laundry since I bought it at the Senior Sale in Bellaire two summers ago.
Pigeon toed and naturally clumsy, I've survived the four times I've used my treadmill because the "kill switch" works.
Tonight I used it, not just to walk or run, but boogie down.
My jam: The Hard Lessons, Arms Forest
Turns out, it's a thing: treadmill dancing.
Here I am mid air punches, hip whips and some hot elbow jabs.