Whose crazy idea was this?

And why would I try to follow them on a 100 day regime that I knew would torture me? It seemed such a good idea: 100 days to get fit. Brilliant. Just the motivation I needed after a year of no formal exercise routine. It would be part of the whole "taking better care of myself" promise: testing before very meal, weighing the carbs rather than eyeballing, actually scheduling check-ups and going through with them. Yes, I would be a better person and my BG would be perfect.
I chose a new endo, and after waiting three months to see her I had all the tests done, asked to see a dietician and stepped up the informal exercise, which was walking the huge hounds 45 minutes a day to 60 minutes.
Combined effect of this new routine after one month? A1c: up, blood pressure: up; most disheartening of all: I have gained four pounds. It's enough to make me drown my sorrows in a vat of champagne with a side order of Sachertorte. However, I am made of stronger stuff, I am not a quitter. No, not me. I will increase my exercise, I will sweat off those extra pounds, I will achieve better glucose control. I will join a gym.
I used to have a lovely gym, five seconds away. The management was lovely, the gym rats were friendly, the fees were reasonable. But I moved from my perfect gym to a new town, miles away from a shop, never mind a gym so I have to be very motivated to get in the car in the cold, and rain and snow and exercise. Still I am on a mission here so Ii started to check out the gyms in the area. Firstly they are much more expensive, some are too high-powered for me (shouting at me doesn't motivate me, it traumatises me), some don't seemed to have any trained staff. In short, no great gym.
But I have a back-up plan, in my basement, alone and unused is a treadmill. It was left by the previous owner and I used it for the first month or so after we moved here in 2004. I would get back on the treadmill, no problem. Well there were a couple of problems. One, it was filthy so I had to clean it before I did anything else. Then I couldn't get it to work. I checked the extension cord: working. I checked the wall socket: working. I checked the safety key: in place. I decided to move it so that the plug reached the wall socket without using the extension cord. I don't know why I did this; maybe I thought there would be more power in a shorter cord?
I learned one thing: treadmills are heavy, really, really heavy. I pushed, and I shoved and I pulled it so that the cord reached. And, nothing! I was totally frustrated and so I yanked the plug out of the wall- it was covered in verdigris. So I ran up to the garage, grabbed some steel wool and cleaned the plug and voila, power. By this time I was covered in grime, red-faced and sweating. I felt like I had had a good workout already. I managed 10 minutes on the treadmill that day.
That was March 1. It's now March 7 and I this is killing me. After 10 minutes I am drenched in sweat, my legs are sore and my back is killing me. Surely it shouldn't be this hard? When does it start to get easier? I'm doing this to make me feel better and live longer, right now I think I may not survive the week.