I didn't want to. I wanted the basement to be another pretty room in our pretty house, free of any and all heavy equipment.
I was reminded that it's a freaking basement, and I prefer to work out at home and just what the hell was I waiting for, anyway?
So the treadmill now hulks in a sort of corner, facing the television, behind the couch. The basement remains another pretty room in our pretty house.
We painted it yellow- Benjamin Moore's "Arizona Tan," to be precise. There are two accent walls, two pillars and a soffit painted "Navajo White," which is my new favorite white. We hung framed vintage posters- booze advertisements and entertainment venues, and mixed in framed black and white baseball photographs. The berber carpet is called "Yellow Cream," and it is sort of sisal-y looking, with soft green accents. The sectional is the same soft green, by luck rather than design. I found some frog lamps, which are in front of the bay wall on shelves that flank the television. The tables and shelves are all either black, or oak with black wrought iron. We found an excellent oak dining table on super-sale, and are waiting for the black chenille parsons chairs to come in. The substitue black folding chairs are holding us over nicely. The ceiling is dropped and disastrous, so we'll gloss over the nightmare that it is. The lighting is canned and on dimmers.
I love it down there. Love, love, love it, treadmill or no.