Farting In The Gym
Oh come on - we've all done it. I'd forgotten about this embarrassing side effect of working out. And it really doesn't matter what you've eaten or drank before you went, when you had your last intake of food, or even if you've had your morning ablutions. But, oh boy - do not stand anywhere near me when this is happening! There isn't really a great deal you can do about it is there? Do you, break step on the machine to break wind whilst pretending to go get a drink of water or read the notices on the wall. Incidentally, have you ever entered one of those competitions? I particularly like the rowing one where it says that everyone is welcome, and that there's different levels to row at. But you know all these things are won by the human cyborg unit Thick-Beta 7, whose only purpose in life is to finally assimilate with the rowing machine and become as one in the great 'Rowing Machine Collective' whose mystical chants include - Level 10, faster, faster, lift that baby off it's brackets.
Yesterday, (yes - all my troubles seemed so far away.....Just having a lyric moment there....:) ), there I was on the stepping machine, minding my own business when I felt a build up of pressure in a 'bowel area'. Without getting too medical, you know what I mean when I say that this is not the sort of lower body feeling one associates with everyday work-like activity - unless, of course you spend your day sat on the pan reading the sporting pages. And there's another, (to me anyway), disgusting human phenomena - taking something to read into the toilet. For Gawd's sake - the main purpose of occupying the smallest room in the house is not to spend quality relaxation time.........although this obviously depends on your quality of life. But what's even more disturbing is when you go into someone else's house, you have to use their bathroom.............and there is a magasine rack in there. Two questions immediately spring to mind:
In order to answer both those questions you have to overcome the hygiene conflict first. I never get passed that stage. And my life does not feel less fulfilled for not knowing.
- If I was in a public doctor's or dentist's waiting room, I would not touch the magasines in there "for hygiene reasons", so am I going to pick up one of these things?
- What kind of magasines does one have in ones magasine rack in the toilet to....er....pass the time away?
Anyway, there I was back in the gym. Bowel pressure build up. I decided as it was coming to the end of my vigorous workout...*cough*...I thought I'd hit the exercise mats for the valuable stretching routines before I left. Gingerly, (does that mean like 'Ginger Rogers'?), I got off - actually I staggered away from - the machine and collapsed on the blue rubber mat. This sudden shift in my torso caused me to let rip with a fart, which, had I been standing up somewhere might not have been so loud, but due to the immediate proximity of the mat to my butt - it was like the noise the huge Maceys Thanksgiving Floats make when they deflate them back in the hangar. And if you can't imagine that - it was like an enormous raspberry! Isn't it strange how quickly your brain works in situations like this? I mean, the deviousness and cunning plots and plans that flash through your head in order to....er.....'cover your tracks'. I wonder if the CIA use the Unexpected Fart In Public scenario in their agents training to test their ability to react in a crisis situation? There may even be a written test:
You're standing beside the President and The Queen of England. You fart. Do you:
- the actual answer is to blame one of the Queen's Corgi dogs.
- Blame The Queen?
- Blame the President?
- Take some other course of action?
So, in my particular situation I opted for the quick scraping of my training shoe on the rubber mat to replicate the previous offensive sound. It worked. And just for added measure I accidently-on-purpose tripped up on the mat as I got up to leave. I did not stay around to see the aftermath of my bodily functions, although I'm sure it's not the first time, or the last, that it has happened in there. I doubt they'll be naming a machine after me for my contribution to gym life. Maybe they'll be a competition on the wall next time I read it - now I might stand a chance in that !
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