by Bonnie Calhoun

It has been one of those weeks...not enough caffeine, I've switched to green tea. I polishing my manuscript for the Phila Writers conference (see the link above), putting the finishing touches on the Workshop I'm going to teach there about blogging, and trying to get into reasonable shape *snort*, and then there's reading....

In my case, reading can be hazardous to my health!

Now that's sort of an oxymoron...or maybe I'm just a moron...LOL...But I created this contract with myself. I MUST EXERCISE. Now if I was like Oprah, and could hire a trainer to get my butt off the couch that would be a good thing. But alas and alack, she has not deemed it profitable to share with those of us who are not related to her. (Hmph..imagine that!)

Well, anyhow...I digress. My contract with myself says that to read (novels) I must put my derriere on the treadmill, and I don't mean in a sitting position. Although, until this moment that loophole never occurred to me! So I walk and read! I have traveled through many good novels. I'm thinking of writing down the mileage I get from a good book. Clive Cussler rates right up there on the top, because he has repeatedly put me on my bottom.

Typical scenario—I'm reading along. The action is good. The suspense is palatable, and I get so involved that I stop moving my feet. Well let me tell you, when the speed is set at four miles an hour, a momentary hesitation is monumental!

My cat always sits beside the treadmill. I used to think she did it because she was fascinated with the belt movement. Now I'm pretty sure that it's the entertainment value of watching me get thrown off the back. I'm sure I heard her say, "Yep...there she goes again!"

Needless to say, I have cleared the area behind the treadmill of all sharp and breakable objects!