Last Friday morning I was on the treadmill at the gym, and as a compulsive gym goer (seriously, if I dont go for a week I get moody) I really go for it. I mean really go for it. And just because I run alot, it doesnt mean I look good when I run. Ive caught myself in the mirrors before, and I look like a cross between Pheobe from Friends and an angry, 20 stone, New Zealand rugby player. Lets just say I dont look graceful, or in any way attractive. So, as I was flailing my legs very quickly, in time to the music playing loudly in my ear, suddenly the song changed. Now my Ipod does this alot, due to my headphones having a button on, which I really dont no what it does. The song which came on was good, albeit slower, so I didnt really mind.
Then something remarkable happened that Friday morning. I fell in love with a boy who looked like an English version of Chace Crawford. I'm not even kidding. He was a babe. I was in love. Well and truly in love. My heart was beating even faster than it already was, and I felt myself getting all flushed.
You know in movies, where the gorgous man walks past, and a song comes on that always seems really appropriete? Well, I've always wished that would happen in real life. So that whatever mood you were in there would always be a song that would automatically come on, that would be great would'nt it?
Well it happened to me. Just as he was walking right in front of my treadmill I realised what song was playing in my ear. It was a song by The Cure called 'Friday, Im In Love'. It was amazing. And while pondering the irony of this I will tell you another thing. In movies when that gorgous man walks past and the song comes on, have you ever realised in goes in slow motion? This was also happening to me. He seemed to be walking in slow motion, and I seemed to be running in slow motion. Only when you've set the speed on the treadmill to 9kph, you cant really afford to slow down.
So there I was wondering how my life had become so much like a movie, whilst trying to look attractive, and trying not to look directly at him. So much so that I came back down to the ground with a bump. Unfortuantly in this case, not a metaphorical bump, an actual one.
I was so caught up in the fact my life was near perfect, that I forgot to carry on running.
So there I was in a heap on the floor, wondering why I now had Lady Gaga playing in my ear (I still have no idea how my headphones work) when I saw Chace Crawford above me, saying something to me. To which I replyed 'Fine, just fine. Im going to go stretch it out'. I still have no idea what he said to me, and I limped off, flushed bright red.
Theres more. In the rush to get away from the situation I had left my treadmill still running and my bottle of water in the holder. Now as I am looking back I really should of just left it and gone and dug myself a hole and crawled into it. But no, when I realised I immediatley turned round to go back, and I saw him turning the machine off and, picking up the bottle. When he realsied why I was again stood in front of him staring at the bottle, he handed it to me. And all I could do was a thumbs up. A THUMBS UP! Who do you think you are? Fonzie from Happy Days?
Embaressed isn't the word.
So with a bruised knee and a bruised ego, I limped back to my locker. Mumbling words like 'stupid girl' and 'bloody brilliant' to myself. And even after a week I still dare not go back to the gym. Can you imagine my 'I have no idea what your talking about' conversation?
At the moment, I find it alot easier to sit on my backside and get fat, than to face Chace.
Live. Laugh. Love.