I had visions of treadmills in my head when I was growing up, mostly from ones I spotted in TV and movies. They were the modern version of the treadmill. One that moved on its own power, like the conveyor belt at the supermarket check-out. Of course, I wanted to play with one and I would get my opportunity when I went to visit an Aunt of mine who lived a in a housing community with a public gym.
While the adults were doing whatever adults do, I walked over to the gym, hoping they might have a pool or maybe a game room or something when I spotted the treadmill. Jumping on it, I sought out the power button, but was depressed to discover that his treadmill had no power. It was a belt on wheels that you powered yourself.
My disappointment was short-lived because I discovered they also had a steam room and spent the next hour running in and out and trying to stay in a long as I could. When I finally went back to my Aunt’s place, I was soaked from head to toe and had to wear one of her bathrobes while my cloths were in the dryer.
It would be another decade before I would actually see a powered treadmill and when I first ran on one I slipped and fell and hit my head on the safety bar.