Thursday, January 10, 2013

Me vs. Machine: Part 2

An addendum to my previous post:

Verrrrry old building
Tonight, I decided to venture to the top floor of the Y to confront the elliptical machines there. Now, the downtown Y is in an ancient building, probably close to 100 years old. You get quite a workout just walking up three flights of stairs to the floor with the weights and cardio machines.

The top floor, I discovered the other night, has mood lighting. Yep. It looks kind of like an indoor mini golf course. There is a running track that loops through the middle, then tucked away in corners are some treadmills, ellipticals, and stationary bikes. 

I approached an area that held four elliptical machines. One was occupied by a woman. I climbed on a machine. And nothing happened. The control panel didn't light up. It was really dark up there, so I couldn't READ any of the buttons, but I pressed them anyway. I shuffled my feet. Nothing. So I moved to the next machine. Climbed on. Pressed buttons. Shuffled my feet. Aaaaaand nothing. 

Seeing me waving my arms at the machine and talking smack to it, the woman next to me said the machine would start up as soon as I started using it (which, in turn, feels like you're trying to steer a car after the power steering has gone out). After a small struggle, I got it going. But with every step I took, there was a loud squawk that sounded as if I were stepping on a bird. Even with earbuds in and music playing, I could hear the squawk, so I got off THAT machine and moved back to the first one I was on. I decided to watch a little tv instead of listening to music, so once I got the control panel activated, I turned on the little tv that is mounted on the top. Chose the Colbert Report to watch. Unplugged the earbuds from my phone and prepared to plug them into the tv. Aaaaaaaaand no earphone jack. Anywhere. Of course, since the dim lighting meant I couldn't SEE anything that wasn't a brightly lit LED message, I had to feel all over the control panel for a jack. Then I used my flashlight app on my phone and looked. Still nothing. I decided I wasn't cut out for the combination of mood lighting and elliptical machines, so I got down, gathered up my stuff, and moved back downstairs.

I felt like an old pro when I clambered onto the elliptical this time.

I tried sticking my phone in my sports bra instead of my waistband, as suggested by my friend Dawn, and my boob tried to make a phone call. Phone went back to waistband of my yoga pants and only fell down my leg one time. Progress.

I did learn something (besides that my eyes are too old to operate machinery in dim lighting). I discovered if you think you're all that, you do the elliptical without holding onto the machine. Apparently, this makes it easier to flirt with the weight lifters. That's okay. I out-boobed her. 

And if I had stayed on the top floor, I would have missed the young woman of questionable sanity in the weight machine room, sitting on a leg press machine in the corner, eating chips and drinking from a can of Pepsi, then shoving the leg press with her feet and then allowing the weights to crash down when she released it. All of this was done with a variety of sound effects, none of which I care to think about ever again.

Best part? I made it thirty minutes IN A ROW on the elliptical machine without passing out. I. Am. AWESOME.


  1. Elliptical machines can be cruel. Comparing starting one up to steering a car without power steering is dead on.

    1. I am improving. And I think my ability to make a phone call with my boob might come in handy some day.