The life and times of an ethnically ambiguous little lady.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Treadmill Travesty, Part I

Some experiences shape who we are. Other experiences do that and bring our knee modeling career to a screeching halt. This is that story.

Everyone has fears. Some people it’s biological warfare or getting hit by a car. I’m deathly afraid of treadmills. That’s what happens when you fall off. You try watching TV and running on an incline. It ain't easy!

It happened when I was 21 at my parent’s house home for spring break. After midnight seemed like a good time to work out. Then again, maybe I'm not as coordinated as I thought. Maybe I was still a little hung-over from the night before. Maybe I should wear a helmet when I do any kind of athletic activity. After all, my mother has been known to fall up a step (yes, just one) and give herself a black eye. And it was a step in our house. So obviously the coordination issues are genetic.

Anyway, when I fell off it made a huge crash. You’d think a loud noise in the middle of the night would wake people up, but not my family. Later, my father told me he didn't hurry down to see what had happened because he thought my brother and I were roughhousing. (A little note of clarification here. I'm about 5 feet. My brother is about 6"4. I'm not kidding and I'm not sure who's adopted. What I do know, is that we don't roughhouse anymore. The closest we get to that is me punching him in the kidney and then running for dear life.)

Regardless, no one was coming to my aid. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to call an ambulance to wake up my family, so someone would come down and help a sister out. Finally they make their way down to the basement. My father freaks out. He's running around like a chicken with his head cut off. I'm trying to figure out how to stop from looking at my knee which is open to the muscle. It's not pretty. Then again, either are my very unshaven legs. So generally, to confirm, it was not an attractive sight from my waist down.

Finally my brother and father carry me up the stairs and load me into the car. At this point, it's of course started to snow. I'm beginning to think this must be a sitcom.

And this post is going to get very long, so why don't we continue this tomorrow....

3 Comments:

Blogger JA said...

Emily! What a wonder, this world wide web! I wished for witches and here's where I was sent!

I don't know what that even means, I was just keen on using the letter "w" there for a moment. Ahem.

I haven't actuallly read this post I'm commenting on, by the way. I'm just saying hello. I did read the stuff about your father showing a tape of you in a french maid's outfit to your friennds, however, and might I just say, that's some kinky shizzat.

Was Ilka fun for you?

2:44 PM

 
Blogger micah said...

Good to see you here!

4:11 PM

 
Blogger Will McKinley said...

I would like to say that I have never read any of your posts, but I really enjoy your blog template.

11:29 AM

 

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