What better way to return to the blogosphere than a gym disaster story!
Tonight’s gym story is a bit of a romance novel (ok maybe a half of a page out of a romance novel – anyway)….. There I was, power walking like I had not a care in the world and like I had the lungs of a skinny 20 year old….when this guy comes over from the weights and gets on the treadmill next to me. He was shorter than I care for but I try to stay pretty open these days and I am liking flats more than heels anyway these days. He had been eyeing me as he walked up. There were several treadmills open so the fact that he chose the one next to me was a pretty good indicator that he was into me. Maybe he witnessed Monday night’s bra incident (where my strap came undone and one of “the girls” went running free) and he was hoping for more action tonight.
Either way, it was the setting for the perfect love story. Our eyes would meet. He would smile. I would smile. He would say “I like your speed and incline”. I would giggle and blush. He would ask me out and the rest would be history and a story for the grandkids.
He starts jogging. I start jogging. He says “oh, do you like spotify? I have been thinking of subscribing” (so you’re creepin on my phone. Trying to see what I have goin on. I like it)
Then it went bad.
“Oh I love it. It’s worth every penny so far.” Now, had I stopped there, we might have had something. But, I did not stop there. Instead of saving the next things in my head for a letter to Spotify and the artists that I was referring to, I unload on treadmill boy.
“Well, I should clarify. It is great for sure. But Garth Brooks and Taylor Swift aren’t on there. I am not ashamed to like Garth out loud. I just haven’t come to terms with saying that I like Taylor out loud just yet. Don’t get me wrong, the more I learn about her, the more I like her. She is super connected to her fans. As a marketer, I appreciate her engagement. It seems authentic. And that’s the only real way to reach your audience these days. You have to be authentic. I think Garth probably engages too. But mostly old school. I have heard his concerts are great! Have you ever been?”
Yep. All of that with barely a breath in between sentences. Then I take a drink of water to give him a chance to answer. I am also lightly (and by lightly I mean barely) jogging still at this point.
Then….i start choking. Not a little bit choking. A whole lot. The red face kind of choking. Where tears are rolling down my face and I can’t catch my breath choking.
In an effort not to lose the potential romance, or to save what microlove might be left, I try to keep going like I am not essentially convulsing.
Only on the treadmill for approximately five minutes, he leaves. Never to be seen again. I excuse myself to the bathroom and try to figure out how to dig a tunnel out of the building so that I don’t have to face the scene I left so abruptly. No dice. Looks like I will just do the walk of shame.
I guess I will just go back to my “safe zone” of pining away for an ex that will never want me back. That seems to be my comfort zone these days. Just hang out in “neverland” where at least I don’t have to share my covers or force myself to “be out there” in unguarded heart land. That’s a scary place. 😝
I wish this was exaggerated or made up. The hardest thing to believe in all of it? That I never fell! I can’t wait to go back to the gym.