Maybe I Should Do Something Nice For Someone?

God only knows why I think I can achieve a state of physical fitness and good health.  I have yet to achieve such a state in my thirty-nine plus years on Earth.  Yet, for the last seven months I have stomped into the fitness center close to my home in an effort to achieve this goal.

I waltzed into the center this afternoon and hopped on the treadmill.  This part has become routine.  I flip the channels on the connected TV, punch the wide range of hieroglyphic picture buttons and await the magic of when the treadmill begins to move.  Often times it tips backwards to provide a more rigorous workout with an incline.  Those aren’t my favorite runs when this giant contraption of metal, plastic and hieroglyphics tips backwards, but I am dealing with it as I can’t quite figure out how to make the thing operate with a more level plane.  Of course I could ask someone for help, but at the age of nearly forty I figure I should be able to figure this stuff out.  Seven months into this quest I still haven’t managed to master the buttons.  All in good time, right?

After my run I stomped over to the weight machine and free weight area.  This is where the real show begins.  I weave between the muscle heads and yoga girls to take my turn at a variety of machines, the likes of which remind me of some space-age looking contraption that could transform into a robot at any second.  I am convinced that my carefree operation of these machines brings much amusement for the other gym goers.  Am I a gym-goer?  I am not sure I can technically fall into that category as my time there is spent attempting to look like I know what I am doing, but none the less I am there, I go there. So, maybe I am a gym-goer.

This afternoon had plenty of humor evoking moments.  Take for example my time on the leg press machine.  I hurl myself aboard the contraption, select the weight and heave my body backwards to move the weight off of the floor.  Audible sounds of exerted energy fill the air and ears of those around me. – It is on the first set and eighth repetition that I feel it happening.  My body temperature rises instantly.  I begin to sweat profusely.  Then it is confirmed with the narrowing of my field of vision.  I am on the verge of passing out.  It is by some stroke of luck that I manage to throw my self off of this machine and onto the floor.  By now I am crawling to the pillar in the middle of the area so I can lean against the thing and put my head between my knees in a weak attempt to regain my faculties.  Sweat is running down my face, neck and back.  At least I look like I have been working out hard.  Nobody needs to know it is the physical response to my lack of physical fitness and overdoing it.  My field of vision has nearly closed completely by this time and I see a large object moving toward me.  Yep, one of the muscle heads comes over and says, “Dude, are you gonna be alright, buddy?”  Now, I should be appreciative that someone gives a rip enough to check in on the tall, lanky, clearly ill prepared gym goer who is in a heap on the floor.  Oh, no.  Instead I am embarrassed and muster a thumbs up sign and say, “Oh, yeah, I’m cool here.” – I’m cool here?  Who says that? – Apparently I do.  The guy stood there for a minute.  It is at this time that a cute yoga girl slid over to check on the goings on.  Maybe she is his girlfriend.  I think they look like a good couple, but I am taken off guard by this growing group of gym goers who is focusing on my clear inability to manage the workload.  It is only by a whim and a prayer that my tunnel vision begins to widen, my breathing slows and color comes back to my face.  The yoga/muscle head couple smiles at me and ask for assurance that I am really going to be OK.  I am.  Yet, they continue to keep a close eye on me for the rest of my time at the gym.  As I scurry through the remaining exercises I am sort of appreciative that some one- actually some two- took time to notice me in my hour of need.  Chivalry is not dead, people…. It inspired me to be on the lookout for someone else in need.  Now let’s see if I do just that.  With any luck there will be someone in need that I can pay the kindness forward to this week.

Memory Lane

I remember the time my mom, my brother, Heidi our Yellow Lab, and I drove to the Popcorn Stand in the middle of our town square.  I must have been all of ten years old.  My mom pushed the accelerator of the blue Cadillac Sedan Deville to the floor.  We all sunk into the seat backs and howled with excitement.  My mum is the WORST driver, as is evidenced by her countless fender benders.  Yet, we love the anticipation of wondering if today's adventure will result in the Cadillac having any rearranged parts.

We whizzed by the Dairy Queen - another of our favorite hot spots for a mid-summer night treat with fixed determination to get to the Popcorn Stand before they close for the evening.

My mum squeals the tires of the Cadillac around the corner of the parking entrance to the town square.  It feels like we might have been two wheeling it, but who really knows.  We flee the car and stomp up to the Popcorn Stand window.  The aroma of the freshly popped corn makes me feel like I am in the movie theater.  We all start salivating.  Rounds of snow cones and buttered popcorn are ordered for all, including Heidi our Yellow Lab.

We sat barefoot in the grass in the town square sucking down hand fulls of popcorn and snow cones.  The feeling of satisfaction overpowers us as we have beat the clock once again with my mother's crazy white knuckle driving.

Yet, as I take this walk down memory lane I smile and wish that as an adult, all these years later, I still had some sort of connection with all of the core members of our family.  I have a connection with my oldest brother who sees things similarly to the way I do when it comes to some of the members of our family.  For that I am grateful, but for an instant I wonder how the desire to be close to the other members of the family has faded away.  Though I believe it is healthy to distance yourself from some people, even if they are family, it still strikes me as odd that I feel so disconnected from some of them.  Then I am reminded that you don't owe anyone anything, even if they are a family member.  Trust, respect and unwavering love are earned, aren't they?  Or is it that they have clipped me and I am under a false illusion that I am the one who has clipped them?  Too deep of a topic to ponder now..... I need lunch.