The exercise room smelled like burning tires.
Smoke billowed out of it. Then my daughter ran from it gasping for breath.
And so our treadmill eked out its last mile and created its own funeral pyre.
Let this be a lesson to anyone contemplating a home gym. (Who isn’t this time of year?) Owning fitness equipment means maintaining more than your weight. But having a home gym beats going to a gym any day.
First off, health clubs have people. The fact that you have to haul your lard-rump to the gym probably means you’re not thrilled about pulling on a pair of shorts or something spandex and shaking what your mama gave you (and then some) in front of all those buff and toned gym rats.
Besides, those buff and toned people aren’t real, everyday people. They’re models, whom the gym pays to show up to sell more memberships to people who become convinced that they, too, can look buff and toned if they join. Scientific studies have proven that exactly 96 hours after buying a health-club membership, people never return.
Second, there’s the locker room, where you change under fluorescent lights in front of strangers. Aaach!
Third, there’s the inconvenience. According to a blind online survey conducted by Nautilus, 55 percent of those who did not have a home fitness area said they would exercise more if they did.
So a home gym offers the best way to fight flab and avoid corporeal embarrassment: no voyeurs, no shame, no locker-room ordeal and no excuses.
The home gym downside is finding and maintaining the equipment. Like health clubs, gym-equipment makers bank on fitness fantasies fizzling. They count on people buying monstrous contraptions, using them for a week, then turning them into a clothing rack.
Some people outfit home gyms with gleaming equipment, then, rather than use them, visit a plastic surgeon.
But some people actually use their home gyms. In our basement gym, we have old, mismatched free weights, a Lifecycle and a treadmill. The bike hasn’t worked in five years. We keep it to make the gym look better and hope it may someday spring back to life.
The treadmill, a HealthRider purchased six years ago for just under $1,000, including a five-year warranty, has been broken more days than it’s worked. We’ve replaced the belt twice and the motor control board. One smoky day, shortly after the warranty expired, so did the machine.
“This machine wasn’t designed for that kind of use,” the $60-an-hour repairman said after my husband, Dan, told him our family had three runners.
“What? You’re not supposed to run on it?” Dan asked.
“Machines like these are for walkers,” the $60-an-hour repairman said, then pronounced the treadmill dead.
Because the $60-an-hour repairman felt bad, the way guys do when they can’t fix a problem, he stopped by the Lifecycle and replaced the old 9-volt battery. The sleeping warrior roared back to life.
“Unlike treadmills, these babies last forever,” he said, patting it.
Now, until we get a new treadmill, we’ll use the bike or go shake our hubba hubba at the health club.
Marni Jameson is a nationally syndicated columnist and author of the forthcoming book “The House Always Wins” (DaCapo Press, April 2008). You may contact her at .
TAKING THE EXERCISE-ROOM PLUNGE
If getting in shape is on your 2008 to-do list, here’s how to surmount home gym hurdles:
Hurdle No. 1: Finding space
Hurdle No. 2: Getting equipment
Hurdle No. 3: Staying motivated

