The Separation

Me and Mr. Treadmill have been on a break from our relationship this summer. Well even longer actually, since my credit cards were stolen last spring and I was too lazy to walk the two blocks to my gym to change my auto-payment information.

We have been on a break because I have been too busy and too happy to find time to spend with him in the demand, exhausting, endorphin increasing, sweat producing, angry beeping 40 minutes a day that he requires of me.

Our relationship is not all bad. Sometimes I really look forward to spending time with him. I sing out loud to the dismay of everyone around me and practically skip to the sound of Miley or Brittany or whatever poptartlet is blaring through my ear buds.

But so many days I dread seeing him. Our relationship is so much work and I feel like I do nothing but give and give and he just takes. (Well, to be fair, what he has taken is the pounds off my backside and he happily returned them in our separation agreement.)

I don't want to go back to him. I really don't. But I have realized this morning looking at my chub - chub which I have actually been okay with because it is happy chub not depressed chub - that although sometimes he makes me want to cry and I cheat on him regularly, our relationship is one I can't live without.

I think it is time for me to go back and grovel at his feet.