i will survive . . .

so today . . . diandra tried to kill me. with an elliptical machine. an unusual weapon for sure, but apparently her weapon of choice. thankfully i prevailed.

yes, we went to the gym together today. i can't say it was the most fun we have ever had together, but it probably wasn't the worst time either. although, i can't think of a worse time--oh wait a minute, yes i can . . .

anyway, it began in the women's locker room. let's just say that we saw things we wish we hadn't seen. diandra had the sense to come in her workout clothes. i did not. i had to come straight from school, because i knew that if i went home to change i might never end up at the gym. so we had to go in there. and while i do appreciate the fact that there were people of all ages, shapes, and sizes working out, i really didn't want to see them in the locker room. after their showers. before their clothes. although i do kind of have to admire the confidence of people who will wear their only towel around their head when the rest of them does not conform to popular standards. but still . . .

we were able to find our way out of the locker room while looking mostly at the floor or each other. i took my bag of school clothes back to the car, because it didn't occur to me to bring a lock so i could use a locker--that's how long it's been since i went to a gym!

i came back in and found diandra on the machine of death--the elliptical. i used to think this looked like fun! i see people selling them on tv all the time, and everyone who is using one looks like it is just the most fun they have ever had! (it isn't exercise--it's a party!) it is all a lie. these machines will kill you!!

i started moving my feet, pretty fast i thought. around and around and around. and then i was ready to move on to something else. but diandra wasn't stopping--i kept looking at her for signs of slowing down, but she just kept pumping those feet of hers around and around.

"i'm tired!" i said.

"mom," she said, "you have only been on that thing for two minutes."

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!? i seriously thought i was going to die. i was sweating (which i rarely do,) i was sucking air, my legs were shaking, and my heart rate was already maxed out! and then she says, "we have to do this for 15 minutes." then i knew i was going to die. she must have sensed this from the look of despair on my face, because she graciously said, "we will go by the time on my machine, ok?" i gasped out, "ok." because she was about 4 minutes ahead of me.

i glanced at all the lights and numbers glowing on the screen on my machine and noticed that i had already burned 18 calories. "hey," i said, "i've burned 18 calories already." then i looked at her machine and noticed she had burned over 30. hmmm. "yes," she said, "it takes a lot of work to burn those calories. i'll bet the next time you look at something with 500 calories in it, you will think twice about eating it, knowing how much work it will take to burn it off!" there is good logic in that thought, but i might have traded her in for a twinkie at that point.

i plodded on. i slowed down, so as not to raise my heart rate too much. (i need to go to work tomorrow--i don't have time to be hospitalized with a heart attack.) i tried going backwards for a while, but that scared me--it felt like i was going to fall off the back of the machine! i kept my thumbs glued to the sensors that measured heart rate, figuring that if it got too high i would have a legitimate excuse to stop. but my body betrayed me once again, and my stupid heart hovered right around 145.

i wanted a drink from my water bottle soooo badly. but i was afraid to let go of the handles and reach for the bottle. and i knew that if i tipped my head back to drink, the machine would devour me. diandra did it--more than once, and without stopping. but i knew it would be the end of me, so i just tried to think of other things . . . which led me back to the fatigue in my legs.

when her timer neared 13 minutes, she informed me that we should really push hard those last two minutes. i said i would try not to die in those last two minutes. she took off! i watched the clock.

finally the magic time arrived! yay, i thought. now we can go sit on the weight machines. my legs will be so happy!

then she pointed me toward the bikes. oh no, i thought. my legs will cramp up. i will scream in pain. it will be bad for business. they will revoke my brand new shiny membership. but when i turned around, diandra was gone. i was alone with all those machines . . .

have any of you seen "transformers?"

well, she was gone and i didn't want to lose her, so i stayed where she had put me--at the stationary bikes. it wanted all kinds of information from me, and i didn't know the right answers to any of it's questions. so i just made stuff up and said i was a level 2--hoping that meant beginner, but not so bad as to be a level 1. i was going to be in BIG trouble if level 1 was the best and not the worst . . .

i started pedaling, my feet barely touching the pedals (i didn't know i needed to adjust the height of the seat!) and after about five minutes, the drill sergeant disguised as my daughter, returned. "where were you?" i said, a little desperately.

"i went to the treadmill. i didn't think you would want to do that." she said. she was right about that! so we rode the bikes. this time we went by the clock on my machine, since it was ahead of hers . . .

finally it was time to move to the weight room. this is the part i was looking forward to. well kind of. we went from machine to machine. diandra did 5 sets, i did 3 sets. when diandra set the weight to 50 pounds, i set it to 25 pounds. and with those adjustments, i was able to keep up with her. if you can call it keeping up . . .

i was just glad diandra was telling me what to do today. because we saw one girl working with a personal trainer who looked like she was going to crumple into a heap on the floor at any minute. i think that is the trainer's evil plan. because they know that if they leave you with any strength or energy at all, you will probably use it to hurt them, seriously hurt them.

so i made it through my first day at the gym. i don't feel too bad right now, although my legs felt like rubbery spaghetti when i walked to the car. i had serious doubts about whether i would even be able to drive home, since that required pushing pedals with my noodle legs. but i did. and then i folded laundry, warmed up some leftover steak for dinner and did some computer work.

oh, and ate a piece of chocolate cake.