A near-fatal tread

"Hello, so you are back again?" I neglected the sarcasm in its voice and the sneer in its face, pressed the 'Quick Start' button and looked up. I was determined today - and decided not to fall prey to these rather caustic remarks the treadmill was making. It was perhaps speaking out for about a dozen of its brothers in Hyderabad, Chennai, New Jersey and New York - who had to uneasily bear my weight (pun intended) over the last 3 years. But never for more than 6 weeks at a stretch - and once, even for just a single day.

If you plot my appetite versus my exercise routine on a graph, you would surely come up with the solution for my staggering weight increase. Just today, someone - though a bit more on zeal than reason - called me a "200 pound godown of flesh". I need to get back to this person sooner than later. Hence, there was more reason for me to ignore the treadmill.

Anyways, the last time I went to a gym was in May and I tried to repeat something close to what I used to do then, in my first day today. So, there I was, panting my heart out after running for 10 minutes continuously at 10 kmph. I could not - despite taking 5-minute breaks in between exercises - complete either the cycle or the cross-trainer. One minute into them, my heart was fighting for space with my tonsils and I had to give up. It was not before a full ten minutes of sitting flat on the floor that I could regain my composure.

I was in luck. In this gym, the cardio and weight sections are in different rooms altogether and the trainer stays in the latter room. So when I, still breathing heavily, entered the room and he asked me if I was done, I could conveniently nod a yes before saying I had a call in 10 minutes and, unfortunately, had to leave. "See you tomorrow," I told him.

While coming out of the gym, I closed my ears tight and ran across the length of the cardio room. I did not want to hear the treadmill speak again. Knowing it and its like, I was sure it was bidding me farewell already.