Dear Treadmill,

Thank you for moving into my house five years ago. I know the tight little closet you live in is not ideal, but it works for my home decor (or lack thereof).

Now, I must apologize. I know you are neglected. The weather has been way too nice to close myself into that little walk-in closet. That's the very reason we haven't gotten a dog yet - I can't handle all the guilt. I could offer you a few other excuses, Miss Epic T60 - I have very little self-discipline, I'd rather be blogging, and I don't trust my children to be left unmanned for thirty minutes (that last excuse is legit - can you imagine my mother-guilt if I chose the treadmill while my children discovered the broiler?).

Perhaps the best excuse ever is this: my view.

I have read the side of this box a million times (well, maybe 500 times. Okay, okay, I don't really run that much. 100 times.). "Fragile, handle with care. This side up. Keep dry." It's time to work on my treadmill view, don't you think?

Then, when I think about summertime and swimsuits, I suddenly come back to you, like a fickle ex-boyfriend. Only, last time it was raining and I went for a run, this is what I had staring at me:



At first, I was annoyed. Little Man was napping, Sugs was happily pretending she was a Pocahontas with high heels, couldn't Punkin' just go play with some otherwise-off-limits household device? The electric screwdriver, perhaps? Nah, she just wanted to watch me wheeze my way through a workout.

Then, she started jogging in place next to me.

She had me laughing so hard I just stopped and grabbed my camera. Trying to duplicate it didn't do it justice.



Suffice it to say, Punkin running next to me did nothing for my workout, but sure made me think of Dumb and Dumber. This part, to be exact:



With the three delightful strangers-no-more sent off on their way this morning, I guess I have no valid excuse for my lack of motivation. Except that I'm dog tired, rest time is ending in 3 minutes, and I'd rather snuggle a toddler or two. Those first two excuses don't fly, I know, but what physical trainer is going to argue with that last one, especially the day after Mother's Day? I'm running with it.

Well, not literally, you know.

Resting in Him,
Karen