The treadmill

So my mother "suggested" getting off my hiney and walking on my treadmill instead of complaining about my chub.  She said it would fix everything, it's sitting right there in my living room and it’s free. I wanted to blow her off and roll back over in bed but she is still my mother and she is ALWAYS right.  So I have been walking every morning this week.

Elsa thinks I am amazing for it! She loves the elephant tromping sounds mixed with the blaring fan and the racing treadmill belt.  She sits in her swing watching me march in place.  I think she considers it an amazing multi-sensory therapy session.

Milo on the other hand thinks it’s a sham.  It has taken me a few days to realize that if I don't have a distraction for him, the 30 minutes my self motivation becomes a conspiracy put in place to torture the poor kid. Suddenly he is dying of thirst, lonely and abandoned.

It makes me think back over my past attempts to get it together.  One time I was walking on the treadmill while the family was glued to the boob tube.  I had some awesome music blaring in my ears and was sooo relaxed.  I decided it would be a great idea to deepen the good vibes and close my eyes while I walked...that didn't turn out so well.  My balanced was lost shortly after my eyes shut and I found legs somehow twisting around each other while I quickly tried running to catch my body before it got too ugly.  I couldn't actually hear them laughing, but from the expressions on the faces of my clan, my ratings jumped higher than prime time TV!

So here is to the New Year! May your hearts be always happy, your faces be always smiling, and your eyes be ever open!