Today, I had a fabulous workout at the gym.  I had discovered weight training just before the lock-down began and started training intensely. It was hard at first, but now I am quite proud of what I've managed to achieve in the gym. The benefits of pumping iron are immense, especially as you age. (I will be 52 this year). Your muscle mass declines each year, and the only antidote is strength training.

I usually never do cardio at the gym, instead I Walk outside. But today after an exhilarating workout session, I decided to add a dash of cardio as my morning walk had been short. Of the five treadmills available, three were occupied. In a stroke of ironic (or perhaps I should say moronic) luck, I had to choose the one next to a guy who was walking with a great deal of intensity, lost in his music, his headphones firmly in place. No worries, I thought, as I approached my chosen Treadmill.

But then I remembered that this gym had a peculiar system. The power Switches for the treadmills were inconveniently placed behind the machines on the wall. Moreover, the switches were probably fitted by am electrician who was drunk or high on weed, or both.  The person who'd fixed it  had managed to flip the switches in such a way that the off-position was, in fact, the on-position, and vice versa.But that was not the case for all switches. It was a Russian roulette.  You never know what you were getting. There was also  a chaotic labyrinth of wires back there each one leading to a different treadmill.

Undeterred by this electrifying challenge, I stood behind the treadmills, adopting the guise of an astute detective. I scrutinized the tangled mess of wires, determined to unravel its secrets. Minutes ticked by as I carefully traced each wire, playing a suspenseful game of connect-the-dots. Finally, with the confidence of a mastermind, I identified the correct wire for my treadmill.

With bated breath, I  flicked the  switch,  anticipating the triumphant hum of my treadmill springing to life. Instead, what followed was a jolting moment of panic and dismay. The treadmill of the poor gentleman who had been diligently walking came to an abrupt halt, as if taunting my overzealous efforts. It took me as well as the man on the treadmill a few seconds to recover. Horror washed over me, blending with embarrassment and I drowned in the  cocktail of awkwardness.

Summoning every ounce of remorse, I launched into a frantic chorus of apologies. I begged for forgiveness as if my gym life depended on it. The guy, bless his soul, graciously stepped off the treadmill and kindly rectified my blunder by switching on the correct power switch.

'Sorry--I am so sorry...sorry,' I said.

'It's okay,' he smiled sweetly.

I wished I could disappear. It could have been so dangerous had he fallen off. I apologised once again. Though I wanted to run away, I got on to my treadmill and continued my walk of shame, both literally and metaphorically.

I persisted and  completed my cardio, trying to be inconspicuous amidst the echoes of my failed electrical expertise. Perhaps, in this tale of unintentional mischief, lies a valuable lesson: that even in the midst of embarrassing mishaps, we can find the courage to keep walking, both figuratively and literally, towards the next great adventure life brings us!

More tomorrow.
Come back, and also leave me a comment in my comment box if you enjoyed reading this unintended escapade.

Love
Preeti

ps: The great switcheroo is one of my favourite stories by Roald Dahl (whose work I greatly admire)

pps: If you enjoyed the above do buy my book Love a Little Stronger which are all true incidents like this one from life.