Ode to an Elliptical

Turns out that moving a 450 lb piece of machinery by oneself is not as easy it sounds. In honor of this epic journey, the following poem…

O elliptical, my elliptical
Why fore art thou my elliptical
And not someone else’s fuckin problem?

An elliptical by any other name
Would be just as god damn heavy
And impossible to fit through this doorway.

What happens to an elliptical deferred
in the rain?
Does it rust?
No, really.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen
Lend me your gears
Your bolts, missing from this bag.

I am the master of my fate
The captain of my soul
But I will never get this thing back together in one piece.

 

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Disclaimer: I absolutely did not disassemble, move, or reassemble the elliptical by myself, as suggested above. As usual, Munca was the brains and Mike was the brawn.

 

 

 

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