Well, yesterday at approximately 10:00 AM, I made history and set foot inside my gym. Unfortunately for me, it hasn’t changed much since I left it- I still have to do all the work and everyone else is still in better shape than I am. Alright, so I started off on the treadmills. Not too shabby. The “Real World” marathon was on TV. I was set. Of course, it was all too good to be true. Some guy came along and changed the TV Channel to Fox Kids. Okay, I don’t think he meant to change my TV to Fox Kids; but rather I think he was looking for another channel on his TV- perhaps something with skimpy dressed women on it- and, somehow in the process, I ended up with the freaken Power Rangers.

Of course, what was I to do? Option A involved admitting to the entire gym that I was not only just enjoying the Real World, but that I was also kind of worried about how the whole “Nicole situation” was going to turn out. Yeah, there’s not a lot of dignity in that.

Option B was even worse. It involved making a flying “Crouching Tiger/ Hidden Dragon” karate kick at his head, while screaming, “Damn you, I was just about to find out how Nicole was doing”

Now, here’s a math problem for the kids:

If Runner A is going 2 mph on her treadmill and hurls herself at Runner B who is going 10 mph on his treadmill, what is the probability that Runner A wil get hurt?

Answer: 99.9%

That said, I kept my mouth shut and watched a Power Ranger (i.e. a grown man in a purple jump suit) chase after bad guys. I guess the bright side of the whole situation is that now, I can carry on a conversation with any ten year old out there. That is, unless the Power Rangers aren’t cool anymore… There is perhaps nothing more depressing than trying to relate to a ten year old on their level, only to have them roll their eyes at you, and exclaim in an exasperated manner “No one likes the Power Rangers any more”.

Anyway, back to me on the treadmill…

I am, in general, a huge fan of the treadmills. They have a big, red stop button on them that I find strangely soothing. Cause lord knows, I’ll find any reason I can to stop running. Shoe lace undone. Opps, better hit that stop button. Sweat getting in my eyes. Better hit that stop button. Tired of running. Better pretend that my shoe lace’s untied and that sweat’s getting in my eyes; and hit that stop button. Of course, the whole thing’s kind of unnecessary, cause when you’re traveling at like 2mph, well you can pretty much just step off the treadmill… But really, how much fun would that be?

Other than the treadmills, the only other pieces of equipment that I use are the stationary bikes. Usually, I like to hop on a bike just after the treadmill and just before I heave out a lung. Usually, about the time when the overly fit trainers are starting to cast nervous glances in my direction. Kindof a “Oh oh, someone get ready with the CPR kit” type of glance.

My biggest complaint with regards to the bikes is that there’s definitely some kind of sweat exchange program taking place there. I really just want to like douse the seat in antibacterial lotion before I place my hiney on it. Or perhaps if I could put a little plastic baggie or shower cap over it…

To make matters worse, the bikes also seem to attract idiots. Alright, that was a wee bit harsh. But I swear, both times on them, I got stuck next to a complete moron. The first time, it was some guy who felt the need to brag about his net worth. This time, it was some girl who was blabbing away on her cell phone the whole time. And believe me, there is NOTHING more frustrating than being on a bike that doesn’t go anywhere, while having to listen to some girl recount last night’s frat party. I just kept peddling faster and faster with the hope that at some point, the bike would rip free of the floor, and I could burn the hell out of there.

So yeah overall, I’d say I’m over the gym. Perhaps, I’ll go back in a year or two… In the meantime, I’m going on a campaign to convince the rest of the world that excess flab can, in fact, be very sexy…