Revenge of the Machine

Well, I have almost survived the holidays without gaining weight. But wait! I should have lost weight. Alas, but I ate! Yes, shortly after my last post I became stressed to maximum capacity with holiday preparations and buried my head in a pan of homemade brownies. I’m not proud. But I figure if I’m going to be honest about living a healthy lifestyle, I must also share when I fail to do so.

While we enjoyed fellowship with family, family dysfunction, and turkey, (turkey is an excellent coping mechanism by the way) it is clear that the feasting must come to an end and the exercise regimen must resume.

This morning I climbed out of bed–fresh from a visit to the family farm–and realized it was time to work off some of this blubber. I have a Nordictrack elliptical machine I bought off Craigslist a few years ago that resides in the dark corners of my basement. I use it the most in the winter when it’s too cold to ride my bicycle. And since it was raining this morning, I decided it was time to re-familiarize myself with the machine.

I want to state for the record: the machine is not my friend.

This is not an infomercial. I don’t go down into the bowels of my home with a cheery smile and a skip in my step. I walk down the stairs with the sound of shrieking violins playing in my mind. I imagine Freddy and Jason have become pals and are standing next to the machine while they invite me to come play. And that is why every time I choose to use the elliptical machine (of doom) I procrastinate.

It took me an hour to move furniture and sweep the basement. I hoped cleaning dust and dirt off the floor would help declutter my mind and make using the elliptical less torturous. For context, I hate cleaning only slightly less than using the machine.

My son was watching cartoons but I made him turn them off. Using the machine requires intense concentration and I cannot afford distractions. Even the slightest irritation will cause me to “go off the rails.” Which is why I always read John Owen when I’m on the machine. I focus wholeheartedly on the tasty truth of overcoming sin and temptation so as to somehow avoid the revenge of the machine for at least another week.

Of course half way through my workout my third born son decided to play with the boxer dogs. The next thing I knew there was a volleyball under the track and I was in jeopardy of wobbling, falling, and breaking my hip. I may have shouted a curse word, but since no one recorded and uploaded it to social media, it didn’t really happen. I will admit, however, that my already elevated heartrate broke records previously unsurpassed in the history of Wolfinbarger workouts. Freddy and Jason thought this was hilarious.

Now, I want the dear reader to understand that I don’t look like those women on the Nordictrack commercials. They look cute when they wiggle. I probably resemble Cathy Bates from her appearance in About Schmidt (though I have never watched that film). While I was sweating and trying to breathe, I promised myself that I would never, ever eat brownies again. And while the machine was extracting its pound of flesh, I held on like an action hero clinging to the bottom of a helicopter while it is taking off with his woman inside. Except it looks so much cooler when Chuck Norris does it. Obviously, he never had a C-section.

After the machine was done with its dastardly work, I collapsed into a puddle onto the floor. My son said, “Mom, are you still alive?” I responded by blinking my eyes a few times. I was still unable to speak. Meanwhile my doggies ran over and rolled all over me because they seemed to think it was time to cuddle with the puddle of sweat.

Today I survived the revenge of the elliptical machine. But if anyone sees a headline next week that reads, “Woman Dies After Elliptical Machine Catastrophe”, rest assured they will show a cute smiling picture of me that was taken while I was not using the machine.