all the thoughts that went through my head after i flipped off the treadmill and i nearly killed myself this morning in front of every single person at the gym:
1. pleaseplease don't let my teeth be broken.
2. and not my face, anything but my face. now i'll never be a teen model!
3. does this mean i need to switch gyms again? will i forever be known as the dummy who fell off the treadmill?
4. is this a dream? perhaps a nightmare? please let this be a dream and have big T come and rescue me.
5. are my clothes still on? if this is a dream, my clothes could have easily fallen off my body. stuff like that happens in dreams. and then everyone from junior high shows up and laughs at you.
6. pleaseplease don't let me cry. or making any embarassing gaspy, sobbing noises.
7. i knew i was a clumsy fool, i didn't know i was teetering close to endangering the lives of those around me.
8. did i lose conciousness? where did all these people come from? there a 12 people standing around me. are they talking to me? who is this "heidi" person they speak of?
9. did i utter any naughty words mid-flight?
10. but seriously, is my face okay?
so, i fell off the treadmill this morning at the gym. i had been running and then i decided that i needed to go to the bathroom and i left my machine on at full speed, hoping to just jump back on where i was. but since i don't live in graceful gazelle world, more like lumbering bear world, that proved to be an impossible task. this particular gymnastical feat takes an extra special kind of uncoordinated person. dick, my special senior citizen friend who wears crisp, dark blue jeans to work out in, was the first one on the scene to assess the damage. i think i was only unconscious for 30 seconds tops. but that was 30 seconds too long. of course i cried. mostly from sheer embarassment. and punctured pride. and the realization that i had smacked my face on the edge of the treadmill and that the speeding ramp had taken all the skin off my little, delicate shoulder and knees. one quote was, "you just kept bouncing... and then rolling." and i had to beg them not to call an ambulance. seriously. something about my eyes rolling back into my head. and some squirty blood. but who's afraid of a little blood? now i just look tough. hopefully this big red mark on my cheek will deepen into a bruise just in time to go out tonight with thomas so that everyone will think he is a wife beater. and then i will have to explain to everyone, "no really, i fell down. he's no ike turner." because people's faces look like they have been punched when they fall down.
and the first question asked by my dear sweet sister after i re-told her the gory details of the incident:
does your gym have surveillance video so that i can watch it?
and for the rest of you sick-Os wondering the same thing? no, there is no permanent record of this freak treadmill accident. thank you for your concern.