Last night, I went to our local gym for the first time. I sported my new Asics (which for some reason I keep pronouncing ASSics), my new super-strength bra, and a new Adidas zip-down. Since it’s across the street from us, I didn’t take much with me, just my keys, my wallet and my iPod.
When I got there, it was only me. I had the entire place to myself. The guy running the place handed me a towel. I stretched for a bit, and then put my stuff in front of the treadmill and hopped on.
Treadmill makers must be schizophrenic. There never seems to be a standard set in place surrounding the way they work. I have been to several gyms over the years, and I can’t think of two who shared the same type of treadmill. Even if they’re just little differences, they’re differences, and it can take the duration of an entire workout sometimes to figure them out. Usually, I just give in right away. My routine usually begins like this:
Machine blinks the words “ENTER WORKOUT” I punch in manual.
Machine blinks the words “ENTER LEVEL” I punch in 2 or 3.
Machine blinks the words “ENTER WEIGHT” I put in 140.
Machine blinks the words “ENTER SPEED” I put in 3.5.
Machine blinks the words “ENTER INCLINE” I put in 5.0.
Machine blinks the words “ENTER TIME” I punch in 33 minutes.
And this is how we talk to one another. I like the manual mode because once I’m warmed up, I can tell it to do whatever I want. That’s a good thing. Control.
But last night, I was thrown. I had no idea what this machine was doing. Red shit was moving across the screen like a marquee on the Jersey boardwalk. I couldn’t read it, let alone crack the code in time to fill it out. So I just started to press buttons, one right after another, PRESS PRESS PRESS. OK. OK. OK. PRESS PRESS PRESS? OK. OK. GO!!
And so he counted down 3… 2… 1… and I was off.
It moved so slowly. Apparently, what I hit was WORKOUT: THREE-YEAR-OLD. I think I was doing 1.5 with an incline of zero. So I punched it up a bit. I moved the incline to 5 and the speed to 3.5. About two minutes in, the thing began to move south. It just spitted and lowered itself to the floor, back down to an incline of nothing. What happen next, and how it happen still remains a mystery to me. As it lowered, it began to wobble as well. You know, much like an over-used restaurant table. I started to freak. My fat ass BROKE the god damn machine!
I looked down, confused. Lying before me and underneath the (YES, UNDERNEATH) the treadmill was my iPod and my brand new, lovely pair of super awesome headphones Toby had just purchased for me. BOTH are pinched beneath the treadmill. And I can hear them screaming. THEY’RE SCREAMING! My iPod had become roadkill. But not even REAL roadkill, no. It’s been run over by something that doesn’t even MOVE! I jumped off the treadmill (after hitting stop of course.) I tried and lift the beast from crushing my iPod and its headphones. I couldn’t lift it. And contrary to what everyone says about mothers who, when in shock, lift cars from their baby’s body, I was unable to lift the monster from crushing my iPod. I just stood there, and listened to it scream. I watched the life seep out of it and spill onto the carpet below. And all I could think was THANK GOD! NO ONE IS IN HERE TO WITNESS THIS CARNAGE!
Suddenly, amidst all the chaos and death screams, I had an idea. I got back on the treadmill. It’s blinking “PRESS ENTER TO CONTINUE”. I did so. I hit an incline of like 10 or something and it began to rise, releasing my precious iPod from its grasp. I then hit a speed of 5 and hop down again, onto the floor. I grabbed my iPod and the headphones and took them both to safe place.
I know this next part probably sounds absurd. But after the trauma, I figured since it’s probably going to be bad news, I might as well wait to find out about its condition until after I had a decent workout. So I didn’t test it right away.
Later, after leaving the gym and finishing my workout, I turned the thing on. It’s dented a bit, there’s a scratch on its back. My headphones-
I have no IDEA how they weren’t in a gajillion pieces-had a few indentations and slits within the foam. But otherwise, they seemed ok.
On. Scroll. Press. Select. FUCK!!! OH!! Release hold. On. Scroll. Press. Play.
It worked. IT WORKED!! Hit and run by a treadmill and my iPod still works. Sure, it’s dented, but the thing works, headphones and all.
I love you, Apple.