My Running is ON FIRE!

I'm a firm believer that you've got to be able to laugh at yourself, and I certainly had one of those moments this morning. Over the years I've gone from fit to flab and while it has been frustrating as hell, I'm dragging my body along on this "get fit" quest of mine...which is a whole other post, so let's just go with the short version this morning.

Get up early, decide to go for a run/walk...decide to use the treadmill at my parents so I can get the exact distance, time, etc. So, I'm jamming along to We Found Love and I think I'm smelling smoke...but I don't see any smoke...and I keep going. My parents are building a sunroom off the back porch, saws are whizzing, cement is being mixed, etc. and I keep going, thinking the smell must be from all of the work, since I am running right near an open window.

Nope. 23 minutes into my run, right in the middle of the Glee mash up of Start Me Up/Living on a Prayer, the treadmill DEAD stops, I go flying forward, bounce off the front panel, pitch backward and bounced off the treadmill and onto the floor, where I was laughing hysterically. Nicely played. No appliances are safe around me these days.

Even better was the text I received from my brother a short while later- "Congrats, Tank!" Ah, brotherly love. And now I hear firetrucks in the neighborhood, so let's hope they're not headed to my parents' place.

Are you there God? It's me, Chubby.