I started this exercise and diet routine to make myself into a healthier person. Somewhere along the way, it turned into a competition. Not only is it a competition, but we have involved Tessie the Terrible Treadmill, who's getting the worst of it.
Every morning, Stevie Wonder climbs on the treadmill, opens the blinds on the window, and kicks the treadmill into a steady speed. For thirty minutes he gazes out the window, and his brain goes into another dimension.
My routine is a bit more complicated. I am a fussier athlete. In order to get on the treadmill I require:
1. girly shoes (with pink accents)
2. music (not just any music, but rock music)
3. new spandex exercise capris with rhinestones on them
4. a timer (I don't want to spend one more second than I have to on Tessie)
5. a sweatband to match my spandex exercise tights (a girl can't have too much bling)
So every morning, while I prepare, Stevie Wonder climbs on, does his thirty minutes in silence, and climbs off a healthier person, basted in his own juices.
Then I get on, scan my music and decide which songs to play in which order. It makes a big difference, because if I start out with the fastest song (like the one I shared here) I won't last more than 30 seconds.
Next, I adjust the speed on the treadmill to the slowest possible slug-crawling-speed and start. When I started I lasted 3 minutes. And that is stretching it. I wasn't icky sweaty, but I did sport a nice glow.
This morning I climbed on. I am too bored to just walk, so I kind of dance around on the treadmill, as I gaze out the window. This morning as I danced gracefully around the treadmill, I decided to kick the speed up a notch. I was feeling great, and thought I was ready for the next level of competition.
As I twirled my hands around and rocked out on the treadmill, I got my left hand caught in the ear bud cord on my iPhone, and accidentally jerked it off and sent it flying off behind me on the treadmill. I panicked, afraid I had destroyed the iPhone, and turned around to look behind me to make sure it survived the fall. I forgot I was still moving on the treadmill...but Tessie didn't. She promptly threw my ass off the back of the treadmill, and I landed on top of my precious iPhone.
I grabbed the iPhone, dusted the bunnies off my butt (they tend to hide under the treadmill), and climbed back on like a determined bull rider.
Ten minutes and two songs later, I climbed off. OK, so I counted the three minutes it took me to pick myself up off the floor as part of that time. I figure as long as I was moving, time was clicking. I was so proud I hollered out my time to Stevie Wonder.
Steve came into the room, climbed on Tessie silently, and did 35 minutes.
I hate him.