Stupid Bike

It is those moments of sheer stupidity (perhaps the better word would simply be “thoughtlessness”) that reminds us that we are not gods.

I have been trying to get the upper hand on my “corporalita” (specifically, physical health and fitness) by finding a routine at the gym (it’s been more than 25 years since I’ve made regular appearances, so I’m starting all over again). The other day, I made my appearance with every intention of walking on the treadmill. As they were all taken, I sat on a recumbent bike, to wait until a treadmill was open. Like the treadmill, the bike as much potential for a workout, so I thought I would try something different, so I confronted the bike.

As many already know, the treadmill is programmed to provide the user a number of pre-set options to take one through one workout or another; or, the user may manually program his or her own. I use the “Forest Walk” preset (at present, a 40 minute walk, speed 3.0 at 1.0 unit of incline). The computer panel blinks at me with its video game screen even before I step up. “Walk on me and win a prize!”

The panel on the bike was dead. Blank. No lights and no other signs of life. I checked the rear of the bike—perhaps it was unplugged or something. No cords to be seen.

Perhaps it is battery-powered . . .

I checked the next bike: dead.

The next bike: dead.

No bikes today. Oh well.

I waited for the treadmill.

One soon became available and as I stepped up I expressed within my gratitude for my turn that I would have used the bikes, but there did not seem to be working.

“Sure, they work,” the sweaty guy huffed back. “The user generates the power.”

I decided then and there that the little guy on the bike inside my head must have been taking a water break.

Yeah, I'm going back today.