hmmm..did i say it had to be moving?

as i was writing yesterdays entry
i realized
that i had not been completely honest...
i said that if i was on something that was
and that if i felt it was out of my control
i would do something rash
like throw my body at inanimate objects...
i forgot about the time at the gym...

once apon a time
a long time ago
in the land of the very fit and athletically inclined
there was a girl who was trying
to seem like she belonged there
and knew what she was doing...
one fine morning, she was feeling
particularly confident
and decided to try a machine she had not used before
it was a huge, monsterous stair climbing-like apparatus
unlike the lithe, spindly, easily run ones
she was accustomed to...

this was more like an escalator-to-nowhere...
so, feeling brave, she boarded the steps
and turned on the machine...
no problem
in fact
quite easy...
so easy, in fact, that she decided to turn up the speed a little...

still, no problem...
turn 'er up some more, there sporty spice...
yeah..thats it...hearts going a good groove going..
look at those steps as they come out...
step, step, step, oops, missed a step..
damn...missed another one...
what the hell...fuck...why am i tripping?

so as the speed increased, so did the rate of tripping and fumbling
and whats this?
the mechanism to turn the speed down is WAY up there?
how the hell did it get WAY up there?
oh yeah...
cause i'm tripping over every second step and getting out of breath
and starting to sweat here
and god damn it i can't go fast enough to reach the fucking mechanism
i can't shut it off
i can't slow it down
i'm just hanging on now to the side rails
tripping and falling over the steps
sweating and swiping at the fucking mechanism i can't reach
its just out of my reach
a little more, a little more,
and my head is going
what to do? what to do? people-are-looking-i'm-going-to-fall
so i throw my whole body at the top of the machine
i lunge at the top of the machine
like a mad sweaty woman heaving and panting
i land on my knees on top
yes, on top
of the machine
where i casually shut it off
and then
(and pantingly)
and trying to hold myself together
after this near death encounter with the stair-fucking-master-of-hell
i slink
(heaving and panting and humiliated)
into the changing room
i never
and in case you wondered
as most people usually do when i tell this story
what would have happened if i let go
of the rails?
well...i would have fallen into the extreme deep fiery pit
that exsisted behind the machine-from-hell
and no...
i would not have just slid off the bottom step
which was not that high in retrospect...
that is not what would happened...
i would have died if i had let go of the siderails, ok.
i would have died.