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| Another ten minutes - Treadmill |
| Posted on 06/09/05 at 04:35 by NGONGE |
Those familiar with these stories will recall my earlier adventures in sports clubs. A select few might even remember my treadmill discovery. It is this treadmill that I wish to talk about again tonight.
Sports clubs are full of amazing and great equipment to help people lose weight, tone their bodies or build up muscle. Some are traditional machines and some are state of the art devices with knobs, buttons and many flashing lights. In the past and before Ive become a dedicated gym member, I used to be impressed with these gadgets, not anymore. I now know that the treadmill reigns supreme.
Last week, I became a gym member for the first time. I was to have an induction by a child ten years my junior who was also at least ten stone lighter. Though the child was nice and helpful I couldnt help disliking him. He took my blood pressure, weight and height. He also gave me a small instrument to hold up in the air for a full minute then, with a grave face and a sad demeanour, informed me that I was slightly overweight. I pretended to be shocked and asked him if my condition was curable. He smiled and helpfully told me that with the correct plan, right attitude and a bit of effort the decline can be halted. He also told me that he thinks were very lucky that we caught things on time. I wondered if Dougie was a part-time sports instructor.
After a brief tour of the club we got back to the exercise room. It was full of big men and fat women. Nicely built bodies and gravity defying balloons. I hadnt done any exercise yet I was already tired from the effort of sucking my big belly in every time a pretty woman or muscled man walked past.
Dougie walked me to the treadmill and asked me to step on. I had never stepped on a treadmill before in my life. I tried an escalator and one of those funny treadmills you see in airports but I have never tried one in a sports club. Im a principled man and my principle was always not to imitate animals. Treadmills were for animals and if I were to ape one of those creatures I dont think I would have chosen a rotten hamster. Besides, I dont like gay rats.
Young Dougie was holding on to one of the railings of the treadmill. He was wearing a red sports club uniform. The arms of the t-shirt he was wearing were very short. His arms were not. He was tightening and loosening his grip on the railing as he spoke. The short arms of his t-shirt were expanding and declining. I wanted to strangle him. He noticed the look on my face and told me not to worry about the treadmill, hell put it on slow to start with, he said.
I got on the treadmill and as I walked and walked I started to feel better about using such a machine. Dougie increased the speed a little and told me to try to run this time. He asked me to run for twenty minutes while he went away to do some paperwork. I was happy to see the back of him.
For three full minutes, I majestically ran like a carefree lion on the planes of the Serengeti. My chin was up, the chest was puffed and my bottom was straight. My arms were to my side and I was looking straight ahead. Some techno music was playing in the background and I timed my steps with the beat. Things were going perfectly.
A big Russian muscle with eyes suddenly got on the treadmill next to me. I had a quick glance at him and then returned to my running. As I looked straight ahead and admired the way my head bobbed, shoulders dropped and knees bent, I noticed him looking at me as he slowly started to walk on his treadmill. I stuck to my own pace and got back to daydreaming about Arnold Schwarzenegger in a tight suit. As I peacefully ran and dreamt, I felt someone observing me. I looked around me to see who it is but didnt see anyone looking at me. I focused on my running again.
The Russian was now running. His treadmill was making so much noise that I had to correct my steps several times. I told myself that hell calm down within a minute and that I really should not let him bother me. His machine was still making a loud racket.
Two minutes had passed and the Russian showed no signs of slowing down. This guy must be on some serious drugs, thought I. I looked at the mirror straight ahead and saw that he was looking at me as he ran! Surely this piece of raw steak is not about to challenge the lion!
Im not sure how it transpired, but within seconds, I found myself running as fast as I can on that treadmill. At first, the machine squeaked with delight as I ran faster and faster. However, that was not enough. For four full minutes I gave it my best and still could not beat the Russian. I was getting tired and did not want to lose this race. Then, a cunning thought dawned on me! The Russian might be younger, fitter and faster but this is not a conventional race and there are no rules to it.
That was the second important thought I had about treadmills that week. The first of course, was that when one runs a real race, one has to come back at the end. But, when one runs on a treadmill, one only has to get off. This second thought on the other hand, concerned the treadmill race I was having with the Russian. Gadgets, lights and registers might determine a winner in a treadmill race, but the naked eye can only see style and action. I knew that many people in the gym had noticed our little race by now and wanted to be the peoples champion, if nothing else. In order to be that, I didnt have to run faster, I only had to make more noise than the Russian. What good are a big belly and a bigger buttocks if not for making noise?
I quickly shadow boxed the air like Rocky and started to lengthen my steps as I lifted my knees as high as they could go before landing them on the treadmill one at a time. Within a matter of seconds, the Russian lost his rhythm and glared at me. He saw no eye of the tiger, just a satisfied victor. My elation at winning the race kept me running and running.
As my joy evaporated, doubt crept in. What if the music suddenly stops and everyone notices me running on this treadmill and making all this noise. I might have been excited by my victory but I bet every last one of them was thinking this fat man is going to break that treadmill if somebody doesnt stop him soon. Dougies voice came out of nowhere and startled me out of my step. He asked if I was ok and advised me not to jump on the treadmill in such a way. Youre going to break it, he said. Damn snitches, I thought.
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