Why Troy Won't Go To the Gym with Me

Last week at the gym, I got into a predicament that was so alarming and goofy, I felt like Lucille Ball. I regret that a picture couldn't have been taken - I would have happily put it up here, just to save me the trouble of having to describe what happened and what I looked like. It's gonna take some 'Splaining. A picture would have helped.

For the past month or so, my trainer Laura, has been having me do some squats with weights on my shoulders. 'Cause it hurts more that way. I place a 15 pound weight on each shoulder and hold onto the ends, balancing them there, while I squat and pretend to sit on a bench. I'm supposed to do 3 sets of 15, and I can rest in between each set - but just getting the weights on my shoulders and settled and nestled is a pain, so I try to just plow through and do the 45. By the end, I'm red-faced, huffing and puffing a little and trying not to make an ugly face. Then I take those weights off and put them away as fast as I can. I'm worried that this particular exercise is making me shorter. (Sigh)

Whenever I go to the gym, I always pull my hair back in a ponytail. Can't stand to have my hair hanging down, getting my my eyes, making me sweat. But on this particular day, I decided not to pull my hair back. I wasn't doing any cardio, so I wouldn't sweat much. I'd straightened my hair and didn't want to make a ponytail dent because I had to go somewhere later. I was just lifting a few weights - no need to take three seconds and do what I'd always done. For whatever reason I didn't put my hair up that day, it was a very bad choice. I'm talkin' consequences, people.

So my hair is hanging down, couple inches past my shoulder.

I hoisted up the weight on my right side first. I set it down on my shoulder - and down on my hair. I could feel the weight tugging at my hair, so I lifted the weight up, bent my head over to the left (a move I cannot do right now, because of the car accident) to clear the hair out of the way, set the weight back down and straightened my head. My hair was now cascading over the top of the weight. Doesn't cascading sound better than bunched up and lying there? I did the same thing to the left side. I brought my hands to the front and cupped the ends of the weights.

I squatted. 45 times.

All I'm thinking about is getting the weights off and being done with this exercise. I brought my hands up to my shoulders and hooked my thumbs under the bar part, lifting the weights, while at the same time, curling my fingers down over and around the bar to get a good grip. I didn't think about what else was hanging down and around the bar - my cascading hair.

The weights were lifted a few inches off my shoulders, supported by my thumbs. I had plunged my fingers into my hair and was gripping it along with the 15 pound weights.

• My hair was pulled down tight from the top, I couldn't lower the weights.
• I couldn't loosen my grip on the weights and shake my hair free - it was all entwined in my fingers and gloves.
• I didn't want to drop the weights on my shoulders, 'cause...ouch. Might pull my hair too.
• I couldn't let go with my fingers - my thumbs couldn't support the weights by themselves.

I was stuck. Absolutely, stuck.

I looked like a crazy lady with some crazy barbell pigtails that I was holding in my hands.

Now most days, if there isn't anyone else in the weight room, I'm pleased. The room is small, dark, and hurts my personal space feelings. For a very brief moment, I was glad that no one was in there to see my predicament. Then, as the realization of just how stuck I was sank in, I began to wish for someone, anyone, to help me out. Those weights were getting heavy and they were blocking my peripheral vision.

In a panic, I started to giggle.

I made my way over to the weight racks and bent my entire upper body down to the top shelf. Standing sideways and with my head touching the wall, I gingerly laid the weight in my right hand on the rack. I pulled my hair out and stood up. I used my right hand to grab the end of the weight on my left side, and then I was free. A clean escape!

I brushed my hair back and sat down on a bench. Waited for the panicky adrenaline rush to subside. Whew. I giggled again, imagining just how absurd I looked. I don't think anyone saw me. I was able to save myself - maybe it was a good thing that no one was in the weight room with me. Could someone in the cardio room have seen...nah, who would be watching me?

Or...possibly...someone made their own blog entry that night:

You'll never guess what I saw at the gym today - some dorky girl didn't pull her hair up and was lifting weights...