You know that staple in cartoons, where someone is running off a treadmill and goes off the end? And you’re left looking at the screen thinking, “Who on earth could be that stupid?”
Yeah? Well, guess who.
I will clarify: I didn’t fly off flailing then faceplant the floor. That would have been spectacular to watch, but I don’t think I’d be able to return to that gym again. So no, no bone-breaking.
To be fair, I didn’t expect a stellar training session. I’ve been quite ill lately; I missed karate and a gym slot last week, and I had felt like death itself. While a little better by now, I’m still suffering from a hellish chest cough. Which, as you might imagine, is aggravated by aerobic exercise. So in a pretty logical move, I asked my mother who had already been what we’d be doing.
And I quote, “Oh, there’s only a bit of aerobic at the start, and it’s not too bad. You’ll be fine.”
Said “not too bad” aerobic bit was actually run 1K as fast as possible, rest for 2 minutes, and then do it all again. Now in my opinion, that’s pretty bad, so I was understandably nervous. But I’m a tough gym-ster, so I hopped on the treadmill and did my 1K anyway. After my 2 minutes of rest zipped by, I sucked it up and carried on. I had to hold onto the handles of the machine, but that was okay.
Unfortunately, about .3K in, my breath gave in and I began sputtering like an old exhaust. Naturally, I let go of the handles while I coughed. This was a mistake. You see, my eyes closed instinctively while I was coughing, so I wasn’t aware of what was happening for those few seconds. I was however, vaguely aware of a strange sensation. It took me less than a second to realise that I was falling.
Oh god no.
My eyes snapped open. I leapt into the air. A quick landing. Bounced back up again. Grabbed the handles. Ran. Thanked the Lord I never hit the floor.
Honestly, I’m kind of amazed I handled it so well, considering my reputation as a clumsy fool. Other members of the gym – previously unacquainted with my… uniqueness – were, however, very alarmed by this. The poor man on the adjacent treadmill almost took a tumble himself. But I finished the exercise, so it’s all good.
So yes, I’m an idiot.
This isn’t even the first in my line of impressive gym recoveries. You’d be astonished at how often I have to save myself from a box-jump disaster. Clipping the box, tilting the box, outright missing the box… I’ve done it all. My only real strategy is to jump out of harm’s way, so if I ever encounter a problem where that isn’t possible then I’m in serious trouble. But so far, so good.
There isn’t really an aesop or message for this post, if I’m honest. Maybe pay attention on the treadmill? Don’t hurt yourself in the gym? Just don’t go to the gym, period? I really have no idea.
This was just so unbelievably stupid that I felt the urge to share it.