Seven miles per hour01 Jan 1996
So one of the major advantages of the new house we got is that there’s a gym four doors down with weights and stairmasters and treadmills and a pool. So I have no excuse whatsoever not to go and be healthy. Its actually a good thing. Really.
Tonight I went to run on the treadmill with my walkman, one of my fave pasttimes at the gym. And I was going at about 7 miles per hour on the treadmill, doing my little gerbil thing, with my walkman at full volume perched on the little ledge you can put on the console.
Then my glasses fogged up, as they are wont to do, and I never remember to take them off until they do. So I went to take them off and my hand got caught in the cord that goes from the walkman to the headphones, and next thing I knew I had ripped off my headphones, the walkman had gone flying along with the little plastic perch and my glasses. Everything I had brought with me was in total dissarray, there are walkman bits everywhere, and people are staring at me. Ooops.
So, thought I, I’ll just get off the treadmill and pick it all up. So I turn to the back of the treadmill and remember that the treadmill is still on, and I’m losing my balance and sort of doing this staggering thing, so I reach out for the post to try and recover, but its getting worse so this is stupid I think and I reach for the “Stop” button.
But the reach throws me completely off balance and I land *whack* on my side full length on the treadmill and it vaguely occurs to me that I must have looked really silly but I don’t have time to think very hard because the treadmill which is still going 7 miles per hour spits me out a good six feet behind the machine and I land on my back on the concrete next to the leg press. *whump*
I burst out in hysterical giggles which, of course, attracts the attention of the buff but otherwise somewhat simian cutsomers of the gym who totally freak out because they think I’m shrieking in pain but really I’m laughing so hard I can’t catch my breath enough to stop.
So I do what seemed to be the proper thing; I get to my feet, put my knees and ankles together and do my best “ta da” to the judges on the sidelines.
I’ll have a nice bruise in the morning.Posted on 01 Jan 1996 • in essays •