The saga continues.

Having left the elliptical machine in the back of my van overnight, I considered myself rested and completely up to the task of getting it out and hooking up the two or three main pieces of this thing. Ginny was going to go shopping for clothes, and I was going to get this thing together, maybe give it a whirl, and then spend some time actually taking a whack at a song or two for Moonlight.

Two or three main pieces: that’s what our very nice salesperson at Sports Authority, coincidentally named Dale, suggested we might find in the box. He was completely wrong.

There were a hundred pieces. The damned thing had to be completely assembled. Ginny apologized, then went shopping.

Understand that assembly holds no terror for me. My mechanical aptitude is higher than you might think, and the instructions were actually very clear, with life-size pictures of the screws and bolts, the most helpful thing ever. In fact, all the hardware came in a little egg-crate package, along with a piece of paper which told me exactly what was in which little compartment. Very nice.

All in all, it wasn’t bad. I did it outside so I could work in bright light and fresh air (rather than the dark corner where it will live, next to the litter box), and other than one tiny over-tightened bolt at the very end which prevented me from going back and putting on the pretty plastic piece which was supposed to be under that bolt, everything fit exactly as it should on a piece of precision equipment.

Still, it was four and a half hours of my time, time I had not intended to spend getting a piece of exercise equipment together. So you may imagine my feelings when I stepped on it and was greeted by a truly horrific grinding noise coming from the flywheel inside the plastic casing (the one part of the thing that came pre-assembled.)

I took a shower and made a vodka and tonic. Tomorrow is another day.