My knee made a weird sound when I put on shoes the other day.
Please don't read anything extra into that. I wasn't walking or catwalking or dancing a jig.
I WAS PUTTING THEM ON MY FEET.
Time for some serious reflection on my muffin top.
The first step was to officially request that my employer buy this for me so I can have time to work out.
I hope my boss reads my blog since this is my method for "official requests."
The second step was to look past the Snuggie and Old Navy flip flops and realize I own a treadmill.
Last week, I was watching Matt Lauer and reading InStyle while working on my treadmill fitness. I was dreaming of donning a pair of 4 inch strappy slingbacks while Al Roker helped me answer the age old meteorological question of "Straight or Curly?"
But I had to stop.
I'd flown off the treadmill at a rapidfire 3.2mph bouncing off the bed and landing on the carpet.
Bruised elbow and ego.
I journaled 29 calories burned for the fall. And 43 more for the arm-flailing and disorientation.
Any exercise drama you'd like to share?