Mishap at the Gym

 

Last night, I had a very traumatic mishap at the gym. Only now am I able to write about it and laugh. Last night, I was not laughing.

When I arrived at the gym, I was very disappointed to see that all of the machines in the Cardio Room were in use. The Cardio Room is where the girls and the wimpy guys hang out. This is where I am comfortable, clearly.

The only other treadmills are in...the dreaded Weight Room.

The Weight Room is where all the buff bodybuilder dudes hang out. You have to remember that I use the gym at the University of Buffalo, where Ryan goes to dental school. So we are talking college-aged bodybuilder dudes. Before last night, I had never stepped a toe in there. But since I was in a hurry and couldn't wait for a machine in the Cardio Room, I nervously approached the off-limits Weight Room. 

With much trepidation, I crept inside, trying not to be noticed. Of course, no one in there was on the treadmills–they were benching 300 pounds–so I quickly found a machine and sheepishly started jogging at my very moderate pace. 

 Feeling sure that everyone was watching me and rolling their eyes, I increased the speed a little. 

 After about 15 minutes, I started to feel really tired and hot. What's wrong with me? I wondered. Why am I such a wimp??

That's the last thing I remember–at least while standing on two feet.

Suddenly, I was flat on my back on top of a rack of weights about six feet away from the treadmill. My body tumbled off the rack and onto the floor. 

 I had not fallen off the treadmill...oh no no...I had flown off the treadmill.

You can imagine the reactions: Everyone in the entire place–every single bodybuilding meathead–froze mid-lift and stared. No one ran over to help me...it's like they didn't know what to do.

Jumping to my feet, I started exclaiming, "I'm okay! I'm okay!" and dashed back to my treadmill. 

 Not a soul moved. They just kept staring. 

Turning towards the wall, so I wouldn't have to face any of them, I pretended to start stretching...you know, just a little post-exercise, non-chalant strech, right? 

Well, no one was buying it. They continued staring, as I not-so-convincingly played it cool and finished my stretches. Too bad my treadmill was still running beside me. That didn't add to my "cool" facade.

Realizing that I was going to have to turn around and make my graceful exit eventually, I finally grabbed my sweatshirt and made a bee-line for the door. I swear to you, no one had moved a muscle or said a word. They were still staring at me, completely frozen in shock.

Trying to make a joke out of myself, as I walked by a big guy near the door, I said, "Well, I guess that's my clue to call it a night!" 

He didn't respond. He sat there open-mouthed as I turned and ran out.

As soon as I was out of the Weight Room, I started sobbing. I wasn't hurt; I was just so so so mortified. You know that feeling? When you're so embarrassed that you just start to cry?? I immediately called Ryan and blubbered, "Ryan, something r-r-really bad just happened!"

Of course, he thought I'd been attacked or something, so he asked in a panic, "What's going on?!"

"I f-f-fell off the treadmill!!" Sob sob sob.

Thankfully, I have a very sweet and understanding husband who was willing to drive me to teach my Seminary Bible Study class at the church (I was going straight from the gym) and listen to me bawling about how, "I can't do anything right! Not even run on a treadmill!!"

I know my reaction was overly dramatic and emotional, but sometimes when things like this happen to me, it's an outlet for all the other frustrations I've been holding in. I was initially crying because I was embarrassed by my impromptu stunt woman act at the gym, but it then turned into, "I'm a terrible Seminary teacher...I'm exhausted...School is so hard...I miss my mom at Christmastime...Why don't I do more to achieve my goals??" and the list went on and on.

By the time I got to Seminary, I was a wreck. I changed out of my sweaty work out clothes in the bathroom, put on some new mascara, and somehow held it together to teach about Angels for 45 minutes.

I still don't know what happened at the gym. What caused me to go flying off the treadmill? I didn't trip, I know that much. I think I either blacked out or fell asleep. Option #1 is possible because I hadn't eaten much throughout the day, but Option #2 is possible as well because I am quite sleep deprived and fall asleep in unbelievable places.

Needless to say, I ate a big dinner before going to the gym tonight. And I avoided the Weight Room...in fact, I don't think I'll ever be able to go in there again.

I told my students the story today, and they thought it was hilarious. Their favorite part was that I pretended to non-chalantly stretch afterwards. One of them said that I better watch out; from now on when people spot me at the gym, they will point and laugh and say, "There's the girl who flew off the treadmill!!" 

Let's hope that never happens, or my new-found dedication to running might swiftly and decisively END.