Warning: This is a long, silly story about how I am now sitting with a bag of frozen vegetables on my leg.
I have been taking weekly walks with a good friend of mine, C, for the past few months. Normally, our routine has been to meet up at a local parking garage that is almost deserted, one of the many places around these parts that didn’t develop as originally anticipated due to all the financial chaos going on lately. However, it has been a great place to walk because it has a slight incline (thus giving you a little extra push, but just a little) and we are covered for the most part from the elements. One lap up and down is one mile, so we’ve been doing three laps and manage to get in a 3 mile walk in about 50 minutes.
Of course, with temperatures in the 90s now, it has been crazy hot out, and I have to drive a pretty good distance to this place since it’s on the opposite end of town from where I live. This and the fact that C is a total gym rat and recently renewed her membership at a local gym, which included a bring a friend for free any time clause, caused her to suggest that we attempt a walk inside on the treadmills at this place. It is about a 10 minute drive from my house, so it’s closer, and we would not be out in this horrible heat.
I immediately told her, “No, I hate gyms. “Why?” “Because there will be people there!”
However, C persisted: “This time of day no one will be there. The place is deserted!”
I didn’t buy it, but she continued to insist that we would practically have the place to ourselves; wouldn’t I at least try it?
C has been raving about her wonderful gyms for years. This one in particular she has often suggested I join because it is so close to where I live. She is a major social butterfly, so for her, the whole gym social thing is appealing, but I have never been able to get through to her how much I hate that kind of thing. I want to workout, not chit chat with a bunch of people I barely know, people I would normally never know except seeing them at the gym.
I finally relented. C had come up with the idea of walking in the parking garage, and I had at first thought that was going to be stupid, but it turned out to be a great workout and not that bad of a drive after all. If there weren’t many people at this place, I may like it. I had used a treadmill once before and found them to be kind of cool.
Even as I was getting ready to go, I had a bad feeling. I realized that I couldn’t wear the normal crappy workout clothes and baseball hat. I even had the urge to put on earrings before walking out the door! However, I went.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I could barely find a place to park. I meet C inside the lobby. Before I even said anything, “Well, there are a few more people here than I realized. I guess because it’s summer time.”
The place was packed, jamming to the rafters! Size 0 pubescent 20-something girls were elbow to elbow. Music was blaring as big screen TVs showed Kim Kardasian talking to her mom and a plastic surgeon, all of which was displayed on a teleprompter since the sound was turned down.
“There really isn’t anyone here,” C insisted.
“Okay, you can believe you don’t see people, but I do see them, just so you know.”
We made our way up to the second floor.
“See, there are two machines next to each other, and that one doesn’t have anyone on it either, so there will be no one on the other side if you want to take that one. You’ll be alone.”
I didn’t say anything. Obviously, this was going to suck, but I was there, ready to workout, what the heck.
We set ourselves up next to two machines.
“How do you work this?” I asked her.
“Oh, push that start button, and then just push that to make it go faster.”
Looking back, I should have also noticed the big read “stop” button on the right of the panel, but I didn’t.
So we are treading along. We are talking about organic food and my book and so on. I actually had wanted to talk to her about a few other things going on with my life now, but since we had a full audience of other gym rats, I realized our conversation was less than private.
We were about 10 minutes into all of this treading, and I picked up my washcloth to wipe my face. As I set it back down, it fell on the treading part of the mill, and I bent over to try to pick it up. Of course, this was so stupid because I ended up stopping and getting thrown off of thing.
A tiny little girl tried to help me up, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, just hurt my shin.”
C is now freaking out, “Should we call someone!? OMG! OMG! Are you okay!!”
“Okay, I’m outa here,” I tell her, and I stuff my few belongings in my bag and head out.
I’m a little bruised, not just the ego either. I have bruise on a pinky finger knuckle and a large welt growing on my leg now (thus the bag of frozen vegetables on my leg), but hey, I came home and did a 20 minute “walk away the pounds” DVD! At least I got about a 30 minute workout in, even with all that drama. So there gym people! I so didn’t need to drive over there and watch Kim Kardasian and make a total ditz out of myself.
Needless to say, C and I have plans to head back to the garage on our next walking venture.