Ouch. I have completely neglected my blog. Ok, I’ve addressed it, lets move on.

Day 42. Treadmill desk walking: while watching TV, Olympics mostly. 45minutes.

I was only going to blog about today, day 43, but yesterday is important. See, I *LOVE* my treadmill desk. Well, my treadmill that I made into a “desk” using a $9 shelf from Home Depot. Love, love, love it. I got my treadmill from an ad on Craigslist when I was living in Arlington, VA. Someone was moving from Ft. Belvoir and needed it gone ASAP. I lucked out with that $120 investment. It’s not the nicest treadmill, but 4, FOUR, moves later, it still worked!

The best of times.

Until yesterday.
My mom is notorious for breaking anything. Mostly major appliances or pieces of equipment though. I think she’s been through 3 lawn mowers in several years, a wheelbarrow, broke a pipe that then flooded her house and left a sewage stench for a couple days, a couple of rakes. Last week she was mowing and hit a rock that flew and broke her car window. Shattered. Let me continue…then I’ll see what else I can remember.

Last night it was cold and rainy so she wanted to use my treadmill. She was doing some walk/jog intervals. I was walking between rooms and talking then I think I hear some ‘thuds’. The TV was really loud (due to the treadmill) and she was watching the Olympics. K and I looked at each other and said, “Was that Noot? On the treadmill?” I ran into the living room (yes, I proudly have my treadmill in the living room in front of the tv) and there she was. On her back, curled up against the wall and under the end table..which is glass, so I don’t know how it wasn’t shattered on top of her.

She looked like this:

Just like this. Except under the end table.

My almost-60 year old mother. OMG. I gasped, “ARE YOU OK?!!” And she whimpered, “I think so…yeah.” I busted out laughing. I helped her up and she was frazzled. I then said, “You’re 60! What did you do?!”
(running joke she’s been using as an excuse for months, for anything. “Noot, I told you!” Her: “leave me alone! I’m SIXTY!”
“Noot, don’t do that!”
“I’m SIXTY. I can do what I want!”
She doesn’t turn 60 until December.)
She didn’t know, she thinks she clipped her foot, then came crashing down. Oh, it was funny. She’s got some road rash, but otherwise she’s ok.

Not so funny? The treadmill won’t turn on. I’ve tried everything. Reset. Unplug. Replug. Look at the fuses. I even stomped on it. I don’t know what happened other than maybe the force of her fall broke something in the motherboard. Sigh.

Day 43? Have to workout outside in the cold, drizzle since my treadmill is fried. Major sadface.