Life in Colorado = fitness program

When we lived in California, one of my hobbies was buying exercise equipment and then storing it in the garage. Because I am an indecisive weenie, most of it still sits with other remnants of our old life in a California storage unit,costing us as much as it would if we rented our crap an entire apartment of its own here in Colorado.
That's not the point. The point is that I am still enticed by commercials for exercise shit, even though I know I can't afford it, I'd never, ever use it, and now, we don't even have a garage to store it in once we got it and I instantly lost my enthusiasm.
Just a few minutes ago, I saw an ad for some kind of Boflex-y walking-stepping-elliptical-y machine. I wanted it. Bad.
I jumped up to get a closer look at the 800 number, and in my haste, knocked the plate of chocolate chip cookies off my lap. The next few minutes involved an exhausting struggle with the dog to make sure he didn't get any chocolate, and by the time the mess was cleaned up, the damn ad was over, and I'd missed the opportunity to find out how in just 1228 easy payments of 39.95, I could own one of those nifty walking-stepping-bo-flexy machines, along with 457 how-to DVDs. Plus, the people working out are always dressed so well. Not at all like we dress around here.

I was thinking about that machine all morning. Every time I walked up and down the steps to the scary basement with a basket of laundry I thought...I could be working out. Every time I hauled the laundry out to the clothesline and stretched out to hang it up, I figured how much better I'd be feeling if I could just get that shiny new piece of  exercise equipment. While walking up the stairs to the bedrooms to put stuff away, I kept imagining what good shape I'd be in with that schmancy exercise machine somewhere in my house. It doesn't matter that we've got something kind of like it in a storage unit 1000 miles away. It doesn't matter that I know I wouldn't  use it, and the ceilings in the bedrooms are under the eaves and too low to actually set it up, so the only place it would fit would be in the center of the living room. Yikes. 

Later, the dog and I went for a long walk down the hill by our house, which means we had to walk back up again.  

On the way back up the hill,  we stopped to look around and do some leaf peeping.

The dog really likes the view from here...

But the cat prefers this view...

Probably because the cat likes to see me suffer, and I'm always winded after the climb back up this hill. Man, somewhere in all this over hill, over dale stuff, there has to be an ass-lifting benefit.

Now that I'm away from the TV, I see it is kind of nice outside...

Come to think of it, running up and down two flights of stairs dozens of times a day is kind of like working out. Life in this old farmhouse has it's own set of requirements that pretty much kick the crap out of anything I can order from an infomercial. When you think about chopping and stacking wood, hauling coal,and unloading supplies, (yeah, like I'm the one who actually does that) it's a much healthier lifestyle than just spending 20 minutes on a treadmill  with a DVD.  I do miss the slick workout clothes, though. Just a little.