How I Screwed Up at the Gym, Lied About It, and Got Busted [Have you ever been caught in a lie?]
Posted Aug 30 2013 12:55am
I’m sick, right?
(P.S. Thank you all for the wonderful suggestions on clearing my sinuses! Not only did you guys come up with some great tips – Oil of Oregano seems to be helping but boy howdy the bread-stick burps are hard to get used to – but you made me laugh myself into a coughing fit like a million times. Looking at you Jenny S. and your suggestion to “sink yourself as deep down in a pool as you can go and blow your nose. The added water pressure will push out all that congested stuff. Then swim away as quick as possible so you’re not to blame for the boggie in the pool.” Pretty sure she meant boogie. Either way. I’m dying.)
I’ve been sick basically since Monday. So what was I doing at the gym Wednesday morning? Puking. Naturally.
Let me back up: I have these assignments for the different venues I write for (day job, bills, all that) and one of them sent me to try out this superhardcore new workout (more on that in a different post – I don’t want to taint their Google results with stories of vomit and snot). Setting up the time, place and childcare to do this workout has been a massive pain and so when I felt myself getting sick Monday night I figured if I sucked down enough Airborne and made an offering of my fave legwarmers to the god of group fitness, maybe I’d be able to pretend I wasn’t sick long enough to get through an hour of working out.
You can see how this is going to go badly, yes? Well, I couldn’t. After all, I’ve done this before: remember my bootcamp workout I did deliriou s with a fever of 103? I’m shocked I even remembered enough to write about it and I maybe hallucinated the part about the pull-ups. Clearly my plan was flawless! No way would I be betrayed by my tissue-abraded, red-raw Rudolph nose and feverish eyes! So I downed a bunch of cold medicine and showed up with my game face on.
Lie #1: “I’m so ready for this!” I exclaimed. “This is going to be awesome!”
You know what people do when they know that you’re going to write about them? They try to kill you. No seriously, people (understandably) do their very best to show the workout at its hardest and most intense. But I also think there’s an element of “Let’s see how fit the fitness writer is…” (Answer: Meh. I can guarantee you most fitness pros can waste me.) And so I jumped and lunged and push-up’ed and whatever’d – I seriously got so light-headed I barely even remember what we did – as I stared at the clock, willing it to go faster.
Normally I live for this kind of thing! I love getting my butt handed to me! I love trying new stuff! (And for the record, the workout was really good. I think it would have been fun had I not been, you know, filled with phlegm. And shame.) But that day I was in over my head. I made it all the way until 5 minutes before the end of class. FIVE MINUTES. I almost toughed it out. But as we knelt down for one last round of push-ups, I felt it coming up. And by “it” I mean barf and by “up” I mean most definitely out.
Lie #2: I grabbed my phone that was nearby and faked a phone call, making that I-must-take-this-call-that-is-so-important-it’s-worth-interrupting-a-class-for face, as I jetted out the door. (Why couldn’t I have just told them I was sick? Why was I so afraid of backing off? Why was I so afraid to look like I couldn’t do it? Stupid pride.) Sliding down the wall, my plan was to just sit until the nausea passed and then go back in. Nope. My body was determined to publicly humiliate me for being a moron. I could feel the puke right behind my lips. I sprinted to the locker room, found the first garbage can I could and draped myself inelegantly over the top of it.
As I heaved into it, I heard a voice behind me, “Well, that doesn’t look good.”
Another woman added, “Way to go! That’s some hardcore sh*t!” (Oh geez… was she complimenting me on this? There’s a post for another day.)
Done turning myself inside out, I collapsed back on the bench with my arms over my eyes, trying hard to not give an encore. I was still so nauseous I couldn’t even answer them. Dumbdumbdumbdumbdumb my brain chanted in rhythm to my heart beating rabbit-fast.
“Are you okay?” the first woman asked.
Lie #3: “I’m fine, I’m just pregnant,” I answered. Pregnant?! That is all my brain could come up with? How about a simple “YES”? Let me be totally clear: I am in no way, shape or form preggo. I am a liar.
“Ohhh… Um, congratulations?”
I stumbled out before I could dig myself a hole any deeper and went back to the class where thankfully they were just doing cool down stretches. You’d think I would have made my exit then but no, I still had to do the interview portion and look appropriately interested and excited when all I wanted to do was lie down and die. (Ooh did you see my appropriate use of “lie” instead of “lay”? There was an awesome discussion in the comments of my post where I used the wrong grammar and I’m super proud to now say that I know the difference! Look at me learning stuff! I love you guys. Except… doesn’t “lay down and die” just kinda sound better?)
Eventually I made it home where I spent the rest of the day in bed wishing I could die. And that was when my sickness went from irritating head cold to debilitating I-can’t-stand-without-nearly-fainting flu. I’ve spent the better part of two days cocooned in my bed watching reruns of LA Ink (blame my sister!) – you know, except for all the mom stuff I still have to do like drive my kids to school and get them food and break up fights and why won’t you stoooop asking me for things can’t you see Mommy’s siiiiick? Tonight I’m finally starting to feel human again albeit with a horribly painful cough (oh hai, elephant on my chest!). Although I still have my deep, raspy, phone-sex-operator voice so that’s fun. Seriously I wish I could keep my sick voice all the time! It’s so much radder than my normal voice. Then I could sing tenor like I’ve always wanted.
I’m pretty sure this whole mess could have been avoided by just admitting my human weakness (hello, everyone gets sick!) and rescheduling the workout. Or even just ditching out on the workout when I started to feel bad. I’m sure they would have understood – indeed they probably would have preferred me to do it when I was in possession of all my faculties and not spreading noxious germs around their gym. But now instead of having a head cold for a few days, I’ve given myself… I don’t know what for I don’t know how long. Which is what I mean when I say I got busted. I don’t think the gym ever realized I was sick and I doubt I’ll ever see the ladies to whom I lied about being pregnant to. But I’m definitely busted in my own mind. While I thought lying would make my life easier, it actually made it much worse.
A note about my exercise addiction: Right about the 3rd paragraph, those of you who’ve been with me a long time probably started wondering if my compulsive exercise habit was back in black. While I don’t always have the best insight into myself, I really don’t think that’s what this was. I worked out Monday morning (when I felt totally fine), skipped Tuesday and Wednesday morning with my T25 girls, did the barf workout later on Wednesday, skipped today (Thursday) and will be skipping tomorrow morning as well. While I’ll admit I’m a little anxious about missing so many workouts, I’m making a conscious effort to rest. I even told my T25 girls that they could set up a memorial of dirty socks in my spot, in my honor. Which… they have plenty of since T25 goes better for me in bare feet and I keep leaving my socks in their basements. I’m gross. Anyhow, my point is I think this instance was really more about me being stubborn and thinking I could just grit down and bulldog my way through it so I wouldn’t have to go through the inconvenience of rescheduling and pushing back deadlines. That and my pride. Which I left in a pile of vomit in the locker room.
Have any of you ever tried to tough something out when you were sick? Anyone ever get caught in a lie like this? Does anyone else like their “sick voice” better than their real one?