Payne in the Pierce

Well, we’re back from break and I am proud to say that I am on a diet in order to succeed at my New Year’s Resolution of losing weight. I had no choice really. You see I picked up this nasty little habit over the holidays where I would end up eating just about any piece of food that was put before me on a plate, napkin, or toothpick. So now I’m back to FPU and ready to kick those holiday pounds, and while I’m at it I’ll get rid of the pounds that I have planned on losing for the last seven years as well. Of course with this new diet comes a rigorous exercise plan which includes many trips to the Bubble. Now I have been going to the Bubble for years and there’s something that I’ve always noticed but never really brought up in conversation. Have you ever noticed how almost no one who goes to the Bubble needs to be at the Bubble?

Now this is just a little observation of mine but every time I go to the Bubble and look around at the other people exercising, I can’t help but start to notice some strong comparisons between my stomach and a hot air balloon. I can’t even step foot in the weight area anymore. All around there are men and women lifting barbells, pumping iron, maybe doing some kind of yoga move that if I tried would make it so I could never walk again. Then there’s me struggling with a forty pound weight setting on one of the machines. Have you ever seen the size of the things that people lift in that area or better yet the size of the people who lift them? Let me tell you, my fine weight lifting friends, it’s very impressive but it’s also a little terrifying, not gonna lie.

Even my usual stomping ground, the track, isn’t safe anymore. I love running the track, I just turn up my iPod to full blast and off I go. It always begins the same, a nice jog with some good tunes, endorphins are flowing and overall times are good. Then without fail, someone shows up out of nowhere and flies right by me. This is the point in which the sensible side of me goes out the window and the insane side kicks in. If you are one of these people who run past and hear me rapidly pick up speed, keep in mind that I could never catch up with you, never mind keep up with you. I apologize if my insanity may scare you. I’m large, yet harmless, so it’s okay. 

I don’t know if it’s my inner competitor coming out or what, but every time I am passed on the track I inexplicably pick up speed and run until I can’t go any farther, which usually amounts to maybe four or five feet. After this happens I always look across the Bubble to see where the person is who blew past so I can be prepared to move when they pass me again yet I can never seem to figure out where they are. This is usually because in the time it takes me to start running and then stop dead they have already made it around the entire track and are right behind me about to lap me again. Meanwhile I’ve made it maybe a quarter of the way.

Where are my fellow out of shape people at? I want a level playing field with my workouts! Don’t get me wrong I have endless respect for all of you ridiculously in shape people who I see at the Bubble. Believe me, if I was built like an eighteen wheeler and able to bench twice my own body weight while running six quick laps on the track, I would. However I am merely a man who needs to shave off a few pounds. So I’ll keep doing my thing and you keep doing yours and maybe one day I will be able to reach my personal fitness goals of moving on up to the fifty pound weight setting and jogging half of the track.

Jeff Payne is a Pierce Arrow columnist and can be reached at arrowrepoter@gmail.com, subject line: “Bubble”