Tightly.
It’s been that way ever since the Treadmill Incident of the Early 1990s.
My mom and I had gone to try out Lydia Taylor’s new gym in Island, Ky.
This was so early on that the gym was in a building, I believe, near her house. She hadn’t built the one next to the Island Dairy Freeze yet.
Yes, she owns the fitness center and the dairy freeze. You can’t make this stuff up.
(I found this picture of the dairy freeze on this blog. Hopefully he won’t mind.)
Anyway, Mom and I were the only ones in there, thank God, besides Lydia.
Mom was on another machine, and I was plodding along on the treadmill, all willy-nilly without holding onto the handrails.
Then, for reasons even unbeknownst to me, I shut my eyes.
The next thing I know, I had flown off the treadmill and into the wall behind me.
Mom and Lydia rushed over, asking if I had passed out or something.
God, I wish I had passed out.
Nope, I had just closed my eyes, zoned out and flown into a wall.
So even today, I get nervous when I have to pry one hand from its Vulcan Death Grip on the handrail to wipe my face or take a drink of water.
But I keep going.
Not sure there’s much of a lesson in today’s post, except to hold on, keep your eyes open and go like hell.
Whatever it takes.
Have a great day.
oh dear ... that is SO like something I would do. I think that's why I've been afraid to do the treadmills at the Y. I can just imagine flying off the thing with lots and lots of witnesses. Keep it up, gorgeous. You are my inspiration:)
ReplyDelete