by NINAD JOG
I managed to achieve something today that I had never achieved in more than twenty years of running on the treadmill: I stumbled and nearly fell.
Mercifully I wasn't running too fast - just 5.0 mph, and I grasped the handles just in time to break the fall. But the experience was unsettling, to say the least. You'd think it happened at the end of a long, tiring day, but no, it took place an hour before noon, when I was neither underfed nor overtired.
Did I see it coming? You bet. Not the exact moment of it (or else I'd have prevented it), but the distinct possibility of it. Stumble, stumble, stumble, I had gone as I entered the gym a few minutes earlier. Stumble, stumble, much to my alarm, as I walked on the treadmill to warm-up.
Would it have happened if I had slept an extra hour the previous night - the usual eight instead of seven? Or if I hadn't had twice the amount of wine last evening that I have nowadays- half a glass instead of a quarter glass - that too after teetotalling for several weeks? Perhaps. Gone are the days when I could down a full glass of wine every evening, day after day, without getting hung over, without tripping the next day.
I was sufficiently worried of falling that I concentrated on every step when I broke into a run. I followed the advice of those who meditate: "Focus, focus. Live in the moment." The strategy worked well - but just for ten minutes.
Then the mind wandered and zeroed in on the news about the Islamic State that was being broadcast on CNN on the large TV screen suspended from the ceiling in front of me. It's funny how the mind has a mind of its own. Soon enough, I tripped.
Runners on the neighboring treadmills cast anxious glances at me, but looked away on noticing that not much harm had befallen me. I steadied myself quickly, reduced the speed to a mere 3.0 mph walking clip, and acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The incident was a wake-up call, and I would have ample time to lick my wounds later.
At least I wasn't in as bad shape as one of my colleagues who fell onto the treadmill while running at a furious 8 mph, hurt his head, got expelled to the floor by the running treadmill, and bled profusely from both knees a couple of years ago.
I could have called it a day and headed home right away, but I did complete the other activity that I had set out to finish. I lifted weights - not free weights - but on eight or nine different machines no less. I didn't think I'd stumble or drop any weights while lifting them, and I didn't. Sometimes its good when one's predictions come true.
After leaving the gym I bought groceries and Indian snacks from the stores next door, motored home, had a hearty lunch with my roommate, and took a long afternoon nap, only to wake up to see the drizzle had stopped and the sun was straining to peek at me through the clouds. I didn't think I'd stumble if I went running outdoors, but I didn't go.
When all was said and done, the trip to the gym was well worth the trip.
I managed to achieve something today that I had never achieved in more than twenty years of running on the treadmill: I stumbled and nearly fell.
Mercifully I wasn't running too fast - just 5.0 mph, and I grasped the handles just in time to break the fall. But the experience was unsettling, to say the least. You'd think it happened at the end of a long, tiring day, but no, it took place an hour before noon, when I was neither underfed nor overtired.
Did I see it coming? You bet. Not the exact moment of it (or else I'd have prevented it), but the distinct possibility of it. Stumble, stumble, stumble, I had gone as I entered the gym a few minutes earlier. Stumble, stumble, much to my alarm, as I walked on the treadmill to warm-up.
Would it have happened if I had slept an extra hour the previous night - the usual eight instead of seven? Or if I hadn't had twice the amount of wine last evening that I have nowadays- half a glass instead of a quarter glass - that too after teetotalling for several weeks? Perhaps. Gone are the days when I could down a full glass of wine every evening, day after day, without getting hung over, without tripping the next day.
I was sufficiently worried of falling that I concentrated on every step when I broke into a run. I followed the advice of those who meditate: "Focus, focus. Live in the moment." The strategy worked well - but just for ten minutes.
Then the mind wandered and zeroed in on the news about the Islamic State that was being broadcast on CNN on the large TV screen suspended from the ceiling in front of me. It's funny how the mind has a mind of its own. Soon enough, I tripped.
Runners on the neighboring treadmills cast anxious glances at me, but looked away on noticing that not much harm had befallen me. I steadied myself quickly, reduced the speed to a mere 3.0 mph walking clip, and acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The incident was a wake-up call, and I would have ample time to lick my wounds later.
At least I wasn't in as bad shape as one of my colleagues who fell onto the treadmill while running at a furious 8 mph, hurt his head, got expelled to the floor by the running treadmill, and bled profusely from both knees a couple of years ago.
I could have called it a day and headed home right away, but I did complete the other activity that I had set out to finish. I lifted weights - not free weights - but on eight or nine different machines no less. I didn't think I'd stumble or drop any weights while lifting them, and I didn't. Sometimes its good when one's predictions come true.
After leaving the gym I bought groceries and Indian snacks from the stores next door, motored home, had a hearty lunch with my roommate, and took a long afternoon nap, only to wake up to see the drizzle had stopped and the sun was straining to peek at me through the clouds. I didn't think I'd stumble if I went running outdoors, but I didn't go.
When all was said and done, the trip to the gym was well worth the trip.
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