Slacker Karma

I've made no bones about my dysfunctional relationship with the stairs by my gym.  They've been like a metaphor for my weight loss journey as I conquered my fear of them (yes, I used to fear plummeting to my death on the stairs the way some people are afraid of spiders or heights) from the days where my trainer Jeff would patiently set goals for me to go up just a few until I was doing the full set, to the encouragement my team mates and friends would give me to take the stairs down to class instead of the elevator, to eventually writing a workout for myself and our group that included running up and down said staircase five times. 

I've also recounted the many ways Jeff would pop out at me when I was least expecting it and make me take the stairs, as well as the various cat and mouse games I've played trying to avoid him and take the elevator (my best attempt is here if you're interested). I mean hey, I felt like I was getting ready to go to the gym and burn major calories, didn't I deserve an elevator ride?

Today my slacking karma caught up with me.  It was Monday and I had finally managed to drag myself to the gym a little after three o'clock. I was tired and feeling squinty after staring at my computer screen all day. I could have sworn my gym bag was filled with heavy rocks as I made my way down to the fitness center and rounding the corner I came across two choices: the stairwell or the elevator.  Slacker that I was today, you can imagine my choice.

Yawning with the afternoon sleepies, I got on board, scanned my badge and hit the button for the gym's floor.  Doors shut closing me in and I waited.  The elevator didn't go anywhere.  I pushed the button for the gym again.  Nothing.  Scanned my badge and pushed the button again.  Nothing.  Pushed the button again.  Nothing.   Pushed the button for my current floor.  Nothing. Said a bad word and pushed the button.  Nothing.  Started to hyperventilate and pushed all the buttons.  Nothing.  Saw myself plummeting to my death.  Nothing.  Pushed all the buttons again and imagined my tombstone reading, "Here lies Jenn.  She should have taken the stairs." Still nothing. Hit the emergency call button and then wouldn't you know it, the elevator doors opened up on the floor I started out on.  

I flew out of the elevator with wobbly legs and heart palpitations and guess who just happened to be walking by at that opportune moment.   My trainer Jeff.  After hearing of my ordeal, he laughed, shook his head and said, "you should have taken the stairs."