on busting a move...

Last night, at the gym, I saw some girl experience one of my worst fears.

I was stepping away on the StairMaster (just trying it out for kicks and giggles), and a couple girls came over next to me and got onto the machines. One of them was trying to explain to her friend how to use it.

girl one: "Just step on and push the 'quickstart' button, kay?"
girl two: "Yeah, um, okay."
(pushes a few buttons.)
girl two: "Ugh - wha? Sheeeeaaaahhhh!"

Girl two is now basically RUNNING on the StairMaster machine. She is now hanging on for dear life as her legs attempt to keep up with her. Running up stairs. I died a little inside for her, at that moment.

girl one: (freakishly calm, as if this was some sort of her evil plan) "No. You're fine. Just press stop."
girl two: (climbing the stairs as fast as humanly possible, reaching for the "stop" button that is just out of reach no matter how fast she goes) "I CAN'T DO IT."
girl one: "Just press the stop button."
me: thinking: how about you help out your friend before she flies across the room, you heartless wench?
girl two: "Aaaarrrgh!" (finally reaching button, stops and gasps for air)
girl one: "Huh. I don't know what you did. Just press the 'quickstart' button this time."
girl two: "But now I'm scared."

Seriously, I'm not recommending the StairMaster as simple for beginners. I'm amazed that I made it through a 25 minute workout on that thing without seriously injuring myself. If I remember correctly, I once fell up stairs. If that doesn't make me ridiculous, I'm not sure what does.

I've actually been doing my rogging workouts for about a week now, and haven't tired of them yet. (Running + jogging = rogging. All the cool kids are doing it.) I absolutely can't run on a treadmill for some reason, but I've found so much joy in being outside, running through the neighborhood. I like that there isn't some digital screen telling me how slow I'm going, how many calories I'm burning, how much time I have left to go. I think I do better not knowing. There is less pressure, and I think that it makes me work harder that way.

And it's much more entertaining, too. I play games. Helps pass the time, and keeps my mind off my legs, which are rapidly turning into meatloaf as I run.

1. Pretending I'm Reese Witherspoon. That way I feel pretty when I run. Even though I'm a hott mess, in reality.
2. Choosing prime real estate. While running through the neighborhood, I decide which home I would like to buy, list the pros and cons, begin negotiating a price, and then decide whether or not I will plant tulips or poppies along the walkway. It's fun.
3. I only run on the right side of the road, unless Kate Nash comes on my iPod playlist, at which time I'll switch to the left side of the road. She's British. Makes sense to me, anyway.
4. I ask myself a series of "What would happen if?" questions, such as: "What would happen if I got tired and took a quick rest in that person's porch swing?" and "What would happen if I picked up that woman's adorable child and asked if I could keep it?" and "What would happen if I decided to put on a spur the moment performance of "Go Go Jo" in the middle of the street?"

Helps me pass the time, at least.

Honestly, though, I feel really good lately. It is really important to me, to really get into shape and be truly healthy. Sure, half the time I'm bitter about it because I still think I should be able to sit around all day and eat an entire box of Totino's Pizza Rolls if I want to, but how selfish is that? I've been given this one body, and I should make the most of it. And that's my goal.