Cabin fever is rampant in this year of the polar vortex. In order that I not completely succumb to entropy I've dusted off our venerable Nordic Track—a piece of exercise equipment that was popular in the late eighties. The idea of the machine was to simulate cross-country skiing, exercising legs and arms simultaneously, giving a whole body workout on a machine that one could fold up and store under a bed. I remember the day I got it—right from the factory. They were seconds, so they had a young woman who would test them to make sure they were functioning properly. There was a line of buyers waiting, she had her work cut out for her. And she was amazing. Zip, zip, zip, I don't know how she managed to keep it up all day, but her efforts resulted in a glorious physique. Nordic Tracks are fairly expensive new but used ones can be found for a few dollars at the thrift store. It was a well-engineered piece of equipment, mine still works as good as the day I got it.
I've had a life-long allergy to exercise, but spending a winter sitting on the couch will surely kill me. I've tried and failed at cross-country skiing, and am too lazy to snowshoe. So I will trudge away in my basement, dreaming of summer—and of the woman who once showed me the way it's properly done.