I am totally winning
Winning I tell you! I got a treadmill last week and each time I get on I have decided that the reason I don't see anyone around me is because I'm winning. It puts me in a pretty good mood and distracts me for 5 seconds from doing the heart rate monitor thing. I'm trying to walk on it without holding onto the bars, but my balance sucks. I think I probably walk straighter when I've had a few drinks than I do totally sober. When I'm totally sober I swerve all over the sidewalk and heaven help the person I'm walking with. I will bump them multiple times. Of course, I don't care once I've had a few drinks, so obviously I must walk straighter.
So it's been a slow process of letting go of the side bars, swerving around a bit, imagining slipping off, smacking my head on the basement concrete wall and giving myself a black eye and treadmill burn (this is when I grab hold of the bars again). Then I would have to think of an elaborate story to tell people I didn't know because the truth is never as interesting and if I don't have to see them again I might as well make it good. A story they could tell friends over dinner or at a party. One that is plausible but ridiculous. Something like: "I was just defrosting the deep freeze and the next thing I know I'm surrounded by frozen chicken."
My favorite unfortunate incident was a teacher I had in junior high who looked like he had been attacked - there were hickeys all over his neck. He was young and a bit creepy and we used to make up songs about his creepiness. I can't remember if it was one of the students or the teacher himself who said he had gotten in a fight with a canister vacuum that gave him hickeys all over his neck. I don't even care if it was true or a lame excuse to cover up a very immature evening with his girlfriend, it was a funny story. God I was an asshole in junior high.
The thing is, I fall a lot. Last spring was a perfect example of how often I fall. My entire childhood is another good example. I always have my eye on the ground because there will always be something to trip over and I'm not that great at picking up my feet. I had thought that with the amount of practice I've had over the years I would learn to fall well. Unfortunately this is not the case. At least my dramatic spills have proved amusing for those around me at the time. when my feet grew to size 11 my mom tried to reassure me that the bigger the feet the better the balance. I think it's really just more to trip on and fewer cute shoe options.
So I will continue to work on walking the treadmill without holding on and if you see me with a big black eye and I tell an elaborate story...I probably just fell off the treadmill.
So it's been a slow process of letting go of the side bars, swerving around a bit, imagining slipping off, smacking my head on the basement concrete wall and giving myself a black eye and treadmill burn (this is when I grab hold of the bars again). Then I would have to think of an elaborate story to tell people I didn't know because the truth is never as interesting and if I don't have to see them again I might as well make it good. A story they could tell friends over dinner or at a party. One that is plausible but ridiculous. Something like: "I was just defrosting the deep freeze and the next thing I know I'm surrounded by frozen chicken."
My favorite unfortunate incident was a teacher I had in junior high who looked like he had been attacked - there were hickeys all over his neck. He was young and a bit creepy and we used to make up songs about his creepiness. I can't remember if it was one of the students or the teacher himself who said he had gotten in a fight with a canister vacuum that gave him hickeys all over his neck. I don't even care if it was true or a lame excuse to cover up a very immature evening with his girlfriend, it was a funny story. God I was an asshole in junior high.
The thing is, I fall a lot. Last spring was a perfect example of how often I fall. My entire childhood is another good example. I always have my eye on the ground because there will always be something to trip over and I'm not that great at picking up my feet. I had thought that with the amount of practice I've had over the years I would learn to fall well. Unfortunately this is not the case. At least my dramatic spills have proved amusing for those around me at the time. when my feet grew to size 11 my mom tried to reassure me that the bigger the feet the better the balance. I think it's really just more to trip on and fewer cute shoe options.
So I will continue to work on walking the treadmill without holding on and if you see me with a big black eye and I tell an elaborate story...I probably just fell off the treadmill.
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