On fitness and unknown women - a study

Thank you! Yes you! I know I've never met you. We've seen each other though (I hope). Oh,alright! I've seen you before. And through this post I want you to know that you profoundly affect my life every day.

You see m'dear, the effect you have on me is transformational! All I have to do is look at you. Yes. Really. One look at you, whether it is in the elevator, or at the movie theatre / mall, is enough for change. Yes I Can! In goes my belly and out comes my chest. My back is straighter and my stoop is now a swagger. And while it may look like I'm holding my breath, what I am really doing is assuming that new yoga posture that will become tomorrow's craze. Really I swear.

Or let's talk about the gym. Yes folks, it's true. I do go to the gym. Yours truly succumbed to the deadly forces of obscure medical jargon (what in the world does 'high levels of Low Density Lipoprotein' mean?) and blatant threats ('either you reduce that tummy or no more cheese dosas for you, young man!') unleashed by my mother. But I digress.

So I landed at the gym 2 months ago. Lost amidst the weapons of mass er.. fat destruction, I quickly spotted my life saver: the treadmill. Here was a machine built just for people like me. It could operate at low speeds and has a 'Stop' button placed prominently on the panel. I felt happy. A serene walk for fifteen minutes at 4 km / hour couldn't be so bad now, could it?

It worked like a charm. At first. I kept going to the gym and gave Mom no opportunity to action her threat. If there were any doubts about the effectiveness of my routine, they were certainly never expressed to me.

And then you came along. To the adjacent treadmill. Why, oh why couldn't you have come in just ten minutes later? I would have been long gone. Life as I knew it would have gone on beautifully. But no. You fiddled with controls of the treadmill next to mine. And then I looked at you. Out came the swagger, in went my belly. All this while the treadmill threatens to throw me off.

It was then I committed my gravest sin yet. I took a quick peek. No, I didn't look there! I looked at your treadmill speed. you were STARTING at 6.5 kmph. You cruel cruel thing!

So of course, I nudge my speed up to 7.5. And begin to pray. Dear God, let this be over fast. She's such a petite girl. Surely she must have burned off yesterday's dinner by now. And even day before's. Aaha. Her hand moves to the speed controls. Thank you God! Surely she will get off now. I'm saved! My legs can rejoice now. Wait. What's that beep? And why is she running? 9 KMPH!!!

AARGH. I contemplate throwing in my towel right then. But I couldn't. Why you ask? Blame it on evolution. Sure enough, my hand found its way to the speed button and nudged it to 9.5 kmph.

My legs made all sorts of threats. My head made all sorts of promises. Compromise and cooperation were achieved.

After an eternity, you slowed down. First. Ha! I waited a respectable 15 seconds before following suit. My legs were safe after all.

As I slowly transform back from a pair of revolving legs into a evolved human being, I become aware of sights and sounds that I had never paid attention to before. The calorimeter, I realized actually has three digits, not two. And that 'thud thud' comes straight from my heart pumping away in all its glory.

This dear folks, happened two months ago. For the first time. Thanks to the coincidence of matching schedules, I've become rather used to the daily assault on my body. In fact I look forward to it.

But believe me, I am so glad she caught me at the treadmill. I shudder to think what would have happened if she had caught me lifting weights.

Till next time.