I nearly called in sick today (not really)

Everybody remember this? It was the delivery of the treadmill before Christmas that I thought I might just leave in the box, cover it in ribbon and call it the Christmas tree. It stayed in the entry for a couple of days until I had the bright idea to just open it to grab the instructions. Then it took on a life of its own and had to be assembled for the protection of the glass cabinet and precious Darcy. It nearly killed me.





Then it became this:

It took over a corner of my extra extra room. And I used it exactly once until the asthmatic wheeze brought on by most athletic endeavors kicked in. It nearly killed me again.

Fast-forward to April 26, 2010...I used the treadmill again. Yes, I believe it's the second time in let's say...4 months. I've been having some health stuff which I have wisely been dealing with by sleeping, watching television, and eating Cheetos. It's the feel-good solution and it works as long as you can buy bigger pants. Yesterday, since the bigger pants option is nigh unto running into the ridiculous, I decided that the health stuff doesn't seem to be getting any better so maybe I ought to just do something else. I got on the treadmill.

Here's the demon display to prove it:

And clearly, I didn't set a blistering pace. Walking 1 mile in 30 minutes isn't so fast but waddling that quickly is pretty good. And everybody's got to start somewhere (over and over and over again, I have to start somewhere).

I hate it. I hate it even when I'm watching the Argentine tango on the television or listening to music that makes me do my runway walk/waddle (I keep the curtains closed at all times). I hate it. And I'm pretty sure I won't keep it up, so then I was thinking...what would make this more fun? Thinking when I can't breathe is really not a good idea, but I was pretty excited about my idea last night.

I like goals. I make them too big and then hardly ever accomplish them (Olympic socks) but I like them. And I've been reading this blog by a writer who's blogging every day until she turns 40. I'm exactly 1000 days + 1 week from 40 (if my web search is right and the web would not be wrong...right?) What if I walked a certain distance every day until then, did a travelly kind of thing (which would not be daily because the scenes don't change much at my blistering pace)? Would I keep that up? Probably not. But, if you'd like to try it, here are the destinations I was considering and I'll keep thinking on it (and then it would really be cool to actually go to that place for my 40th birthday if I made it...wouldn't it?)

From Benton, AR to

Portland, OR (my favorite visit ever and if I find a way to live without a job, I'm moving there): 2231 miles

San Francisco, CA: 1983 miles

New York, New York (because if I can make it there, I can make it anywhere): 1255 miles

I might actually make it to Memphis (158 miles) by then.