There’s a machine at the gym that has cables hanging off it which you can attach various handles to and adjust the weight plates the cables lift. My trainer has an unnatural love for this thing and she’s always making me put my feet in the cables and do some sort of godawful reverse-gyno-chair routine that invariably draws curious glances because, like, no one uses the machine like that. People normally just stand by it and do arm curls or whatever. We both joke about this Onion article whenever her assigned routine is particularly odd-looking, but in terms of sheer humiliation it doesn’t seem likely that anything could top this Tuesday’s workout. I was positioned near the cable-weight-whatever-it’s-called machine, balanced precariously on the flat side of a Bosu ball — you know, those things that are like an exercise ball cut in half with a hard plastic platform on one side? — and what I was supposed to do was brace myself and alternate pulling the weighted cables with each arm. Like so:
But what happened was I lost my balance and instead of letting go of the cables, which in retrospect seems like a giant no-shitter, I got pulled forward as the round part of the ball tipped:
And then I fell, and I mean I fell in a seriously spectacular fashion. It was like I fell off the top of a 5-story building. Total trainwreck. I almost wish I had video of what it looked like except of course I don’t really because I don’t need to relive that visual on my deathbed, but anyway, eventually I sort of found myself lying there with my legs akimbo and everything hurting and my trainer was like Oh wow are you all right and even though I suppose it happened pretty quickly and there wasn’t actually enough time to assemble a massive audience it certainly felt otherwise.
Anyway aside from some dramatic bruising I was fine, and in fact finished the stupid exercise (although I made her lower the weights because I wasn’t chancing a second performance), but this sort of thing is PRECISELY why our bodies are always telling us to sit quietly and safely on couches and repeatedly spoon soothing amounts of gelato into our mouths instead of trying to stand on fucking balls. That’s just evolutionary science.