The Alien
The Alien
by Nancie-the-Gun-Tart
We have a Bowflex Machine, which I have dubbed The Alien.
I don’t trust anything with tentacles, so I eyed this thing for months when entering and exiting the house. It never made any threatening moves in my direction so this lulled me into a false sense of security about its true motives.
One day I decided to give this contraption a try. What the hell was I thinking?
I spied the manual and read it--okay skimmed it, except for the Warning
Section, which I seriously studied—and there was no mention of helmet requirements.
I set the machine up for exercise attempt one, and sat down on the freely
moving seat, attempting to get into the proper position by reading the
instructions at same time. You have to attach this big belt thing to the power
rods and around your pelvis. I pushed back against the tension and I locked my
knees, heeding these instructions: “Do not use momentum. MOVE SLOWLY, do not
‘launch’ yourself when you straighten your knees.” I had just finished reading
this when-WHAM! Launch status was a go! I was propelled forward, hitting at
least 3 Gs when my ride was cut short by the pole. I became tangled in the tentacles
and dangled off the side of the machine, held in place only by the belt.
Houston, we have a problem.
Jake the Beagle regarded me with morbid fascination as I released myself. I’m sure he was wondering how someone with my skill set could possibly control his Scooby rations. I ignored him and reread the instructions. There was no mention of launching yourself forward when your shoes slip off the bar. Huh.
I'm either incredibly stupid, damned determined or completely unable to admit defeat until I’m maimed. You decide.
My second attempt involved reading all the directions BEFORE I got on the now stationary bench. However, I then set the slick glossy instruction manual on the tile floor right next to me. You see where this is headed dear readers? I wish I had.
I swing my leg over the bench and placed my foot perfectly on the slick
glossy instruction manual. I was leaning forward so my foot shot back and I
ended up leaving lip prints on the bench before gravity kicked in and tried to
suck me into the abyss. I managed to wrap myself around the side of the bench
to save myself from a painful, agonizing plummet. No warning of this
possibility been provided by the aforementioned manual, but maybe they’d never before
had anyone with my capabilities using the product. .
Jake, was now peering at me from across the room with a look of bewilderment and astonishment that can only be delivered by a dog. He was clearly rethinking his position on the level of my intelligence, while I, realizing we were on the same eye level, safely let go and dropped three inches.
I hit the floor and lay there grateful for the lack of witnesses until I heard a loud guffaw. Sammy, my Blue Front Amazon, had taken great delight in watching the show. I’m surprised he didn’t fall off his perch because he was laughing so hard.
I admitted defeat. I
think we should trade in The Alien for a mannequin.
Jake: Dude, did you see her? It was like watching a train wreck! Hahahaha!
Sammy: Hahahahaha! Oh man, I know! It was like, how can the Bowflex kick her ass this time? Hahahahaha
Jake: Hahaha! And then, she's like all down on the floor and shit! Hahahaha!
Sammy: Oh, dude, my sides are hurting from laughing! Hahahaha...has she stopped cussing yet?
Jake: Hahaha! No...and they call US "dumb animals". Hahahahaha!
Posted by: Doc in CA | May 17, 2009 at 02:24 AM
Couldn't you just dump the torture device and get your exercise with Jake on walkies Wallace doesn't look overweight, and he even has the ex-NASA robotic (i.e., "wrong") trousers.
Posted by: Josh | May 17, 2009 at 02:53 AM
The look on Jake's face is a perfect example of the question, "What Would Scooby Do"?
This is why I stick with basic calisthenics....
Posted by: William Simon | May 17, 2009 at 07:14 AM
Doc, I think you pegged their conversation word for word.
Josh, I walk up and down the line all day at work, so it’s his job to walk the dog. Besides, Jake isn’t what you’d call trained and with his Beagle tendencies to follow every single scent, it’s not a walk but a power struggle.
William, safer for some, yes, but for me it’s a given for potential for injury. I’m still trying to achieve my learner’s permit in walking on a sidewalk.
Posted by: Nancie aka Gun Tart | May 17, 2009 at 08:00 AM
Nancie, you silly woman. Those contraptions aren't for exercising. They're for hanging clothes on that can't go in the dryer.
I often wish I could hear what my dogs are thinking. And then there are those times when it's obvious.
Posted by: Laura (in PA) | May 17, 2009 at 08:21 AM
See, this is why this blog is my guilty pleasure. Excellent, humorous (sometimes, like today, hilarious) writing, and people who are not afraid to tell the truth about themselves, even if embellished to make the story better, in order to entertain the rest of us.
Nancie, we are sisters under the skin. I, too, cannot walk and chew gum at the same time, as evidenced by some ridiculous situations that will go unmentioned. But thank you for baring your soul, and showing us why you carry a gun. Since there's no freakin' way you're going to run away without tripping. Or at least, in the dramatized version of your life here.
Wiping away tears.
Posted by: Karen in Ohio | May 17, 2009 at 08:29 AM
Laura, I thought the function of the dining room chairs were to hold my clothes-now you tell me.
Karen, walk and chew gum at the same time? Are you mad? I don’t even chew gun for the fear I might have to walk somewhere and it would be a painful reminder of why I’m not supposed to do such things. And no, I can't run away without tripping as has been proven by my encounters with rattlesnakes on the range. I figure I haven't been bitten yet because the snake is laughing at me.
Posted by: Nancie aka Gun Tart | May 17, 2009 at 08:37 AM
I’m off to work, so mock and laugh amongst your selves for several hours. I’ll return later today.
Posted by: Nancie aka Gun Tart | May 17, 2009 at 08:38 AM
Um, Nancie? "Chew gun"? Everything okay?!?!?
Posted by: William Simon | May 17, 2009 at 08:39 AM
Gum, gun, those damn letters are right next to each other and eluded my feeble attempts at proof reading this morning. I'm off, obviously, and going to work now.
Posted by: Nancie aka Gun Tart | May 17, 2009 at 08:41 AM
Is there anyone reading this blog who lives in Arizona? Please, please, go find Nancie and make her spit out her gun! (unless she brought guns for all of us.)
Posted by: Harley | May 17, 2009 at 09:01 AM
Not only would the bowflex be useful to fry clothes, I also find all stationary exercise equipment very handy for holding clothes I was too tired to hang up the night before. And then, at the end of the week it's terribly handy to see what I wore all week so I know how to switch it up for the next week.
I'm also mighty wary of gyms since the time I joined one and ended up with two broken ankles.
Posted by: judy merrill larsen | May 17, 2009 at 09:35 AM
I meant "dry" clothes, not "fry" them, dammit.
Posted by: judy merrill larsen | May 17, 2009 at 09:36 AM
Harley,
I'm in AZ and know right where Nancy is.... but what would be the fun in taking anything away from her? How about I just follow her around with my video camera? We could make millions off the movies:D
Posted by: MAM | May 17, 2009 at 09:53 AM
Judy - you may be on to something. If there is an exercise machine that can make fried food and dry clothes at the same time? Best. Seller.
Nancie, Nancie. You always make me laugh. Out loud. So good to see you guesting. I miss you!
Posted by: Kathy Sweeney | May 17, 2009 at 09:56 AM
I don't know, I just don't think gun-chewing is very professional. We can't have her getting fired.
Posted by: Harley | May 17, 2009 at 09:57 AM
Well, Harley, she'd go out with a bang....
Posted by: William Simon | May 17, 2009 at 10:06 AM
Or she'd trigger some catastrophe.
(someone had to say it)
Posted by: toni mcgee causey | May 17, 2009 at 10:41 AM
(nodding to Toni) Someone had to drop the hammer, yes....
Posted by: William Simon | May 17, 2009 at 10:48 AM
Well, you've gotta take your best shot...
Posted by: Laura (in PA) | May 17, 2009 at 11:59 AM
Don't know, Laura; it depends on what her aim is....
Posted by: William Simon | May 17, 2009 at 12:12 PM
groannnnnnn
Posted by: Rita Scott | May 17, 2009 at 01:16 PM
Well she is of a higher caliber....
Posted by: SusanCo | May 17, 2009 at 02:46 PM
"Please, please, go find Nancie and make her spit out her gun! (unless she brought guns for all of us.)"
Harley, the 2nd Amendment to the Confabulatootin' guarantees us all the right to keep and chew Gunny Bears.
Posted by: Tom` | May 17, 2009 at 03:55 PM
Tom, I thought it gave us the right to arm bears.
Can't wait for Nancie to read all of this. I'm sure she'll have some bullet points to discuss....
Posted by: William Simon | May 17, 2009 at 04:41 PM
Please stop giving these guys any more ammunition. Thanks.
evil grin
Posted by: Karen in Ohio | May 17, 2009 at 04:44 PM
" . . . bullet points . . ."
William, I suppose that will depend on whether or not she comes home loaded.
Normally, I'd recoil from this kind of punnery. Honest. It's waaaay too easy to slide into battery.
Posted by: Tom` | May 17, 2009 at 05:26 PM
(sigh) I guess you're right, Karen and Tom.
I've never seen a problem of this calibre on the blog, though....
Posted by: William Simon | May 17, 2009 at 05:54 PM
I thought Michelle Obama had changed that to the right to bare arms . . .
Posted by: storyteller Mary | May 17, 2009 at 06:01 PM
I write a blog telling a tale of humiliation and I come back to everyone lining up their crosshairs on my one little spelling error.
You’ve got to love the blog and all the straight shooters in the TLC Community.
I didn’t come home loaded, but cocked and locked, because I believe you and your gun should never be loaded at the same time.
Posted by: Nancie aka Gun Tart | May 17, 2009 at 06:05 PM
Someone really needs to put a muzzle on you guys...
Posted by: Laura (in PA) | May 17, 2009 at 06:08 PM
This blog post cracked me up - primarily because I can definitely relate! I've never tackled a Bowflex (too scary for the uncoordinated likes of me), but I do have a fitness ball, and my first time on it, I ended up running into the wall with my head. I've also fallen off it more times than I care to admit...
Posted by: Debbie | May 17, 2009 at 06:49 PM
Nancie, I think you should set your sights on a more sober tone next time. But that's just me.
Posted by: Karen in Ohio | May 17, 2009 at 08:03 PM
It's been a real blast....
Posted by: William Simon | May 17, 2009 at 09:08 PM
I was all primed for a quiet Sunday when I could scope out a few magazines. Guess I'll take a powder before I get anything else into a sling.
Posted by: Tom` | May 17, 2009 at 09:35 PM
Late to this party--just back from Pennwriters but I had to ask, if your opponent is a flexed bow, wouldn't you want a gun?
Posted by: Peg H | May 18, 2009 at 12:34 AM
Yes, Peg, that's the ticket: Kill the Bowflexes!
Posted by: Harley | May 18, 2009 at 10:22 AM
Harley, no need for lethal force - we can just unstring them. They can still be useful . . . furniture. Kinda.
Posted by: Tom` | May 18, 2009 at 11:17 AM
It is true...there IS a conspiracy. The same thing happened with my attempt to walk on a tred mill machine. Who can't walk, huh? If I had been "carrying", I would have shot the darn contraption.
I am still laughing; Nanci,you are great with words anyway.
Posted by: sue bullard | May 18, 2009 at 12:31 PM
Sorry I missed this thread, I guess I can only provide a musical interlude; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qE2Vdcv9Q_o
Posted by: Cinema Dave | May 19, 2009 at 12:01 PM