Recently I thought it’d be a good idea to get in shape.
Actually, my wife thought it’d be a good idea. And by good idea I mean
basically shape up or get duct taped for snoring in bed. Yes, I have sleep
apnea, and it sucks. So I thought to myself, what would be a good alternative
sport to try that doesn’t involve moving at a rapid pace, or preferably moving
at all. Golf? Nah, too slow. Bowling? If you’ve ever seen professional bowlers,
I’m sure you’d agree it somehow makes your beer gut worse. So after much
derision, I decided to try the only exercise I’m pretty much guaranteed to not
fail at…yet. It’s called walking, and that’s exactly what I did. Luckily I live
in San Diego, and the weather is pretty much as good as one could wish for this
side of the Northern Hemisphere.
Soon after I began my quest I came across something I’d
never experienced before, it was called a gym. But this wasn’t just any gym,
this was the Mecca of all things active and healthy. The home of hardbodies at
San Diego State’s campus, the SDSU Aztec Recreation Center. I wondered in and
took a look around on my free tour. Treadmills..nah. Weights… that looks like
work. Then I saw it, like a beacon of hope in the nighttime sky. Like an oasis
in a thirsty desert (thirsty desert?). It called to me, and I answered the call. It
was the all-mighty Rock Wall. After taking a 20 minute first time introduction
course, I was all set. I strapped myself into the harness, tightened up my
shoes, and proceeded to climb the wall with all the excitement of a child on a
new playground. Except this child was 30lbs overweight, and the harness
apparently didn’t appreciate that. I got stuck on the rock wall. Let me repeat
that. I literally got stuck on the rock wall. It appears that the student guide
that day was apparently hung over and decided not to show up, and the person in
charge had tried to calibrate the locking mechanism themselves. Now I did go to
college, and I even managed to somehow graduate, but my degree was in Art, not Engineering.
But I do know that something that locks is supposed to unlock at some point. I
got a ways up the wall and then I heard a loud bending noise. Suddenly I found
myself hanging with a locked rope, and I could only climb up from there. It was
like the Gods were somehow taunting me to make it all the way up, like this was
fates way of saying, “If you don’t finish this now, we’re never breaking heavy
machinery for you ever again.” I started to ascend up the wall, and then it
dawned on me. Even if I make it all the way up to the top, how am I going to
get down? It’s not like they have a ladder built into the side of this thing. I
was screwed, and I let everyone in the gym know it by yelling, “I’m screwed!”
The stand-in guide for the day asked what was wrong and I told him that the
rope was not moving, and I was ready to come down. After about three more
“Okay, try it now!” the guide walked away while mumbling “Shit, this isn’t
good.” You never want to hear that phrase come out of someone’s mouth who
happens to be in control of your physical well being, trust me. After hanging
there for what seemed like an eternity, I finally made the brave decision to
release the harness myself and drop down to the floor. Thud!
Luckily I was okay,
the padded floor saved me. It may have only been three feet, but that drop was
downright scary. I picked up whatever was left of my pride and left a note in
the equipment suggestion box on the way out that simply read “Rock wall broke –
sincerely, sore fat guy.”This is why it’s a bad idea to climb the rock wall if
you’re fat… what goes up always comes down, even if it takes a little bit longer to
get there.
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