I have to win. I
feel like most days I am losing so, when I go to the gym, I have to win. Al
says, this is ridiculous and tells me most days to “&%*# the gym.” (To be
fair I usually say to him everyday how much I hate the gym - in a really whiny
voice) But I can’t ^&*% the gym because I feel better after I go. Also when
I am there, I can win. Now usually this works well because I am on the
elliptical machine for so long I begin to wonder if I will be permanently
attached. Each time that people come and
go to the treadmill beside me for ten or twenty minutes at a time, I win
because I lasted longer than them. (I am sure they just go and do weights or
something but I can’t do those so I assume they leave and, I win.) Occasionally,
I am nearly finished with my workout and someone gets on the machine next to me
and I have to keep going until they finish.
Recently I have been
able to run a bit on the treadmill. After I do about twenty minutes on the
elliptical, my joints are warm enough to pretend I am a normal person who runs.
I have to be careful though because if I overdo it, I will be in more pain. But
I feel like a rock star Olympic athlete when I run on the treadmill. (I have
caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and, in reality, I look like a
flailing monkey who has been strapped to the back of a racing horse. But I am
hoping that this is just because the mirror is slightly behind and to my right
– and glancing in any direction except for down or straight ahead results in
near fatal tripping.)
The other day, I did
my twenty minutes on the elliptical and was going to try for running a ten
minute mile on the tread mill. But as I started up, this guy got on to the one
next to me. And every time I put my speed up he put his up too - which meant I
had to put my speed up and vise versa. (Apparently there are other people who
have to win at the gym too.) So eventually I had mine up to 12 which for me is
like the speed I could run if I was being chased by a murderer and my only
escape was to run and jump onto a moving train. He got up to 16 which was -
annoying. I got a text from Al saying he was waiting outside and had left Amelia
at home alone. But I could not let this guy win – the guy who had come into the
gym twenty minutes after me… Eventually, I started to go a bit blind and had to
serpentine to stay on the speeding treadmill. I had to push emergency stop and
ended up running in shame from the gym, stealing one of their cloth towels that
we wipe down the equipment with.
I told myself my compulsion
to win wasn’t much of a problem. But then, I needed some new running shoes
because I got runners knee. I found this extremely exciting and told almost
everyone I met that I now have runners knee. I know it seems odd to get excited
about an injury but first of all, it has “runner” in the name so you can be
like casually - ‘I’m a runner. Not only that, but I am so much a runner that I
got a knee that only runners get!!’ Which is definitely winning; also it is
fixable with a couple days rest and, in my case, some new running shoes. So
unlike the other things that go wrong in my body, this one I am in control of!
Anyway, so I went to
get some new shoes at the non-fancy sporting goods store that was having a
sale. Unfortunately, next door was a proper running shoe store that works with
you - taking video of your gait and other helpful things. Al said I should try in
there first. I told the salesman loudly
that I have runner’s knee and I told him how far I run and he seemed impressed.
(He may have been pretending in order to make a sale but I’d say it was a
genuine confirmation that I am generally winning at running.) He took a video
of me walking and said I had PERFECT alignment (No, I know I can’t technically take
credit for alignment but it seemed like he was saying I was winning.) Then he
brought out several pairs of shoes that did not work very well. Then he brought
out the pair of shoes that cost two hundred and eighty dollars. They were
perfect of course. So he had me run on the tread mill. They felt great.
Now I should have
just gotten off the treadmill, thanked the man, and said I couldn’t afford the
shoes. Instead, they felt so good I had to keep running and I really wanted to
reach 1 kilometer. Because that was like winning. So I stayed on it, in my
jeans, sweating and running at full speed flailing like a monkey so I could win
(running against no one but the shoppers who were passing by on the busy Sunday
in the mall.) Handed the now sweaty shoes back to him and said we would have to
think about it over lunch. We then went next door to the original planned store
found the same version of shoes I have been wearing for the last three years on
sale (a little ) for 160 dollars (believe me in new Zealand this is a good
price. As I tried them on, I said, ‘I can’t buy these because I already was a
crazy person at that other store and I don’t want him to feel bad!’
Instead of reassuring me, Al said, ‘I just saw
the other sales person from that store, she was spying on you.’ Not only was
this mean but it was true; she really was lurking around the store. Now I have
the cheaper shoes but I can’t wear them because I feel guilty not only because
I didn’t buy the sweaty expensive shoes but because these cheaper ones are
really expensive!! Some may call this neurotic; I prefer, winning at being
crazy.
