Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Fat Lady on a Treadmill - Day Five

I can’t think of a good enough excuse today, so Daughter #1 and I once again pass through the tinted glass doors into the pit. Lots of people must be reading my blog because all the stair climbing machines are taken and I’m forced to choose another method of torture today. Daughter #1 heads for the rack, aka, the dreaded elliptical where all four limbs must go in different directions at the same time. I’m still rhythmically challenged, so I choose a two limb elliptical in the row behind her. It takes me a minute or so to set the incline to flatlander so I won’t become a flat-liner anytime soon.

I start my musical accompaniment with the last track of the Pride and Prejudice sound track while I scout for something to take my mind off what I’m doing. My vantage point isn’t great from here, but the place is packed and I have no shortage of entertainment. Sadly, M.M. from yesterday isn’t there, nor is the bronzed god from day one. However there is Trance Lady. Let me explain. She’s on the rack (see previous definition) and the only explanation I can come up with is hypnosis. Arms and legs are going, feet are lifting off the pedals causing her to rock side to side, and her head is bobbing in rhythm, eyes closed, mouth open, left and down, right and up.

I move on to I had the time of my life, a flat out lie, and I’ve never felt this way before, a true statement but not for the reasons the song implies. I have to concentrate to keep from falling off this thing so I close my eyes, opening them between songs to check out my surroundings. If someone beefs it, I want to know. Not that it would be humorous in any way to see someone take a spill, but they would laugh if I beefed it, so I don’t want to miss any opportunities. Everyone is still upright, including Trance Lady who is still going strong.

After fifteen minutes I’m beginning to wonder if someone shouldn’t check on her, you know, tap her on the shoulder, or snap their fingers to bring her out of her trance. Did her hypnotist get her started then wander off to Jack in the Box and forget to come back and snap her out of it? Did said hypnotist implant a suggestion that she wake upon hearing a certain cue, say, laughter when she finally beefs it? Oh well. I’ve progressed to walking on broken glass and drowning in black water and now I’m thinking when every little bit of hope is gone, sad songs say so much. I’m suffering enough to write it down, that’s for sure. I think I might cry. No one would notice, the dew is falling pretty good by now anyway.

I’m twenty minutes into this and Trance Lady stops. She opens her eyes, looks around, and….. starts going in reverse! Same rhythm, same speed, same head and foot motion. Thirty minutes in and I’m in a purple haze and call it quits. Trance Lady is still in reverse mode, still no hypnotist in sight. I decide I’ve earned a sit down, so off to the easy chair bikes for me. Daughter #1 has moved to a treadmill and when my vision clears I check out the weight lifting section. There isn’t much there today, just a C wearing a NASA t-shirt. He’s not bad, but I have doubts about his astronaut status. More likely he works at JPL and designs robots to explore the solar system. Hmph.

It’s time for something soothing, so I find the classics I’ve downloaded and set the bike on level 9 and take a spin around the block, figuratively speaking of course. No need to be in a hurry, so I pedal at a nice slow pace. It’s not like I’m in a race with the C+25 next to me who could power Las Vegas if she hooked her bike to the power grid.

Another ten minutes and Daughter #1 wimps out. We head to the locker room where for once I don’t have to lament the absence of TOWELS. I’ve survived another day. No one beefed it, including me. Life is good.

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