We are half way to Indiana and we’ve made it to our hotel safe and sound. And just in case you are wondering, it’s really hard to sneak a Donkey into a hotel room – but we did manage to convince the hotel clerk Donkey was under fifty pounds. I think she might be blind.
Now I just need to muster up some energy to head downstairs to the hotel treadmill. I just drove nearly 500 miles, so four miles on the dreadmill should be easy, right?
I just spent 30 minutes on a treadmill in a room full of florescent lights with walls wrapped in full-length mirrors that made my ass look as though it had just consumed a 50-pound container of cottage cheese and deposited equal amounts on each thigh. And if that wasn’t bad enough, someone had set and locked the air conditioning on 60 degrees and turned the ceiling fan on full blast causing my headlights to turn on full beam.
None of this would have been a problem if the exercise room wasn’t located in front of the elevators so that every single person going in or out of the elevator was able to witness the freak show.
The good news – I ran 30 minutes when I wanted to leave after 30 seconds. Although I have no idea how far it was since it was the type of treadmill they have in the quality hotel establishments that allow you to randomly check into a room with a “fifty” pound Donkey.