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December 14, 2001 - Personal Best
Welcome to 2TheHeart's Funny Friday, to start your weekend off with a chuckle!
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"What I don't like about office Christmas parties is looking for a
job thenext day." - Phyllis Diller
"I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph."
- Shirley Temple
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"Personal Best"
By Susan Farr Fahncke
I joined the gym with the intention of getting into shape, losing
weight, blah, blah. For the first few months my gym card collected
dust in my wallet (behind my Mrs. Fields stamper card, if you must
know). Finally, sick of paying for something I only used to unlock my teenage son's bedroom door with, I made a new goal for myself.
My new plan was to walk the indoor track every day. Yes, I know, I could walk in my own neighborhood, but then people I KNOW would see me, and thus expect me to get into some sort of shape other than lumpy. That kind of pressure was too much for me, plus I had to rationalize the eighty bucks a month, so I stuck with my new goal and began my semi-regular visits to the indoor track.
The first time was humiliating. As I began walking, I heard rustling
noises behind me, then watched in horror as people who looked as
though they were just taking a simple stroll, glided past me
effortlessly. Lap after lap, I was passed by. Old men walked past.
Pregnant women left me in the dust. I was embarrassed and winded just trying to look as if walking were something I did in a normal fashion, let alone with any kind of athletic appearance. I tried to pick up my pace and at least keep up, but I felt like a scarecrow, my stride awkward, my legs jerky. This was depressing.
Nevertheless, I continued to haul my achy self to the track, and day after day the same people glided past me. However, I was seeing a wee bit of improvement in myself. I hadn't lost any weight yet (that pesky caloric intake-balance thing) but, I eventually saw my calves and thighs taking shape. With "cut" calves, I felt like Ah-nold, and this motivated me to pursue my Personal Best. A new goal took shape. I began to take on the singular objective of passing someone, ANY one on the track. I didn't even care who, I just wanted to walk faster than another human being. After two months of trying, I finally had THE DAY.
Setting my bottled water and membership card on the bench, I moved into place on the track and eyed my fellow track-ers, as usual, from behind. Today looked hopeful. Only a lady with a cast and messy hair (Too tired to do her hair? How fast is she going to walk?), and an elderly gentleman with black socks. Cool! This would be my day! Today I would be the one doing the passing!
After a few laps of watching the backs of Black Socks and Sloppy
Hair, I began to push myself harder. I was getting closer to Black
Socks and could even see his vericose veins. Focusing on one black sock, I swung my arms harder, my legs faster. I didn't care if I looked like the Tin Man when he got his first drops of oil, I was
going for it!
Step by panting step, I got closer to him until I was beside, then
PAST him! I had done it! I actually passed someone! I grinned
condescendingly over my shoulder at him and pushed even harder. I felt the endorphins kick in and elated at my first victory in months, I felt my body take on a new, smoother rhythm, speedy and cat-like. I could hear the music in Sloppy Hair's walkman, I was that close. So what if she was basically sauntering, her long legs lackadaisical in their pace. Breathing hard, I loped up next to her, then... YES! I passed her! I was so excited I felt slobber shoot down my chin.
I drove home on my athletic high. I was not prepared for what
happened next.
I opened the car door, stepped out and hit the pavement. My entire body buckled. My hips felt as though they were in backwards and my legs seemed to have lost all their bones and for some reason my face was numb.
Grinning sheepishly at my neighbor, I used the car door for support and hauled myself up to a semi-standing position. Beneath my red
face, I was still glowing from my victory. Personal Best, schmest, I
had buff calves and walked all over two people today. My own personal best.
Susan Farr Fahncke copyright 2001
Editor@2theheart.com
I am the creator and editor of 2theheart & funny friday, mother to
three, wicked step-mother to one, and in my "free" time, I'm a
freelance writer. My book "Angel's Legacy" is selling like crazy and
I am very proud that so many people are reading about what an amazing person my sister was! See more of my stories in the Funny Friday and 2theheart archives!
www.2theheart.com/archives
www.2theheart.com/funny_friday/
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The Letter Box:
'Relaxing' by candlelight ! If you weren't warned by the the flat
tire, water heater and tulip bulbs, the fact that the water
temperature was perfect should have been enough to make you a teeny bit suspicious that it was all too good to be true !
I've never risked bathing by candlelight, myself. It's just asking for
trouble. How can you possibly relax with candles around - lit, I mean?
The funniest bathing story I heard was from a miner, in the days
before pit head showers were available. A certain kind of child's
foaming bubble bath had just come on sale and, one Saturday
afternnon, he filled the bath with these bubbles until they came
right up, shouted for the family to come in and ducked down under the bubbles, popping his head up to shout 'Boo'. This went down very well until the Monday, when the oldest child had to go out in front of the class and give his 'news'. The teacher and everyone knew his dad worked down the pit and came home black every day. 'On Saturday'said his son 'my dad had a bath and we all had to go and look' !
~Margaret Drysdale
Yorkshire, England
m.drysdale@lineone.net
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www.2theheart.com
Making a difference, one story at a time!
Funny Friday archives: www.2theheart.com/funny_friday/
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