I am fortunate enough to have two exercise facilities at my disposal: the two-story exercise room at the Blatz and Healthbridge back home. Too bad I rarely use either of them. My Mom LOVES going to Healthbridge, and whenever I return home, she tends to drag me along with her.
I have to mention that I've been a little embarrassed to return to this exercise mecca since last summer. I tried to go regularly when I was living back in Crystal Lake last year, but it became a little awkward the day I decided to run a half mile on the indoor track, get lapped by three senior citizens, and then proceed to get told by one of them - who turned around to face me in the midst of his run, mind you - that "this isn't as easy as it looks, is it sweetheart?!" Whhhhyyyyy meeeeee?!?!
So, a few weeks ago, when I went home, what do you know? Mom wants to go to Healthbridge. Now, I think it's important to note here that while I (key word) "attempt a sweat" walking on the uphill treadmill, my Mom's trips to Healthbridge consist of her gray workout capris, long sleeved shirt, an occassional appearance by a fleece vest, and a stack of 67 newspapers and magazines. She spends more time reading than doing actual exercising. She also likes to "try out" every cardio machine available. Sedentary bike? Don't mind if she does! Stair climber? It's her birthday!
In the midst of her reading/trying out machines, she also likes to come up to the machine I'm on and tell me about what she's read for the past 6 minutes. Typical conversations usually end up like this:
Mom: "Lee, did you know so and so was getting married?"
Me: "Yes."
Mom: "Did you read this already? How did you know?"
Me: "Facebook."
or.....
"Lee, read this article about internships."
"Lee, read this about the stock crisis."
"Lee, look, they found this body in a river...."
The woman is a plethora of knowledge.
Well, on this particular day at Healthbridge (aka: the library for my Mom), she asked me to get off the machine. She had to show me something.
My Mom guided me to the weights section in the back of the facility. Oh sheesh.
She puts down her stack of magazines, reading glasses, and beeper (hey, at least she doesn't wear it on her workout capri belt), and continues to visit every weight machine possible, all while shouting "Weeeeeee!" and "Look at me!" Even better, she insisted on using an absurd amount of weights, squealing with delight. In between huffs and puffs, she would proudly yell, "Isn't this great, Lee? I'm lifting 443 pounds!" I kept telling her that this wasn't safe, that she was one step away from hurting herself, but she kept prancing around to the next machine. Still, I felt it necessary to "spot" her, which considering my size and pure lack of strength, is a ridiculous thought, but it was the only thing I could do while she had fun showing me what she had been playing with for the past 20 minutes. I could never have prepared for this.
That day, my Mom left Healthbridge with a new perspective of fun, and I left with a little embarrassment and a great blog post.
Please note: We have never been back to Healthbridge together.
postscript: And before anyone starts "awwwing" my Mom and feeling bad while I make fun of her in these past 1327 words, don't. She got all excited when I mentioned that this Healthbridge trip would be a blog post (correction: excited in her voice, worry on her face). My Mom is an endearing lady who, if it weren't for her quirky ways, would not provide such a humorous entry. Cheers to her 15 seconds of fame!
