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?
Oh my goodness...no one has commented on this comedy GOLD??? I guess that no one else has heard you screaming their name at the tops of your lungs after you fell off the top bunk, either. Good times, those college years, good times...Love ya!!!
ReplyDeleteJ: I had blocked out the fall from that hateful bunk. That's Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder for you.
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