I wish I was more poetic so I could write something catchy, in rhyme, with some nice intentional meter that conveys just how much I love the elliptical at my gym. Instead, you get this:
No pounding of my feet.
No aching of my joints.
A steady flow of sweat down my neck.
With effort just right. Not too little. Not too much.
I would stay on you for hours.
If my work did not call me back.
The lies you tell in green neon are so sweet.
It is so hard to be with you but once a week.
I must resist you.
Pittsburgh calls to me.
I shall fashion of myself a runner.
But I shall not forget you.