Being Ego Bashed By Inanimate Objects

Greetings brothers and sisters, fellow members, and lurkers.

These are dark times to live in for a great deal of reasons, as we here at ATS are all too aware, more aware than most, one might say.

However, there are certain things, upon which a human being may rely in life. Our ability (if not our willingness) to learn from our mistakes, both personally, and more broadly, our ability to logically discern the truth of a matter from physical findings, or our capacity to make and use tools to improve our effectiveness at our chosen labours. We all possess bows comprised of many strings, and many of these involve our ability to wield, manipulate, and operate inanimate objects in order to acheive a given end. Whether that end is to make a cup of tea, or pin something in place with a screw or nail, we are comprehensively experienced at these things, some more than others of course, but as a general rule, we have this stuff down.

But sometimes a human being encounters an inanimate object, which far from helping one achieve an end, actually hinders ones progress in one manner or another. Even rarer still though, is an inanimate object which makes one question the very physical boundaries of ones mortal construction. It is just such a situation, which I would like to describe here.

On the afternoon of Sunday just past, the 28th of June 2015, I had just such an encounter. I had been informed by my sons mother, that he had been a shiftless, lazy bugger all week, not to mention playing up something rotten. So I thought that it would be wise to take him to a local park for some exercise and fresh air. And so, to the park we went, the sun occasionally peeking out to lay its thermonuclear gaze upon us in ernest as we strolled toward it. Upon arrival, we strode around the outer limits of the criket pitch, so as not to ruin the neatly mown surface within its boundaries, and continued on toward the fitness park.

For those who are not familiar with the term, I should explain that a fitness park is an area of a public park, given over to various pieces of equipment, which use the resistance provided by ones own bodyweight as a counter to ones body strength, allowing one to use this opposition in order to build ones fitness. Many of them seek to emulate the function of the sort of kit you would find in an indoor gym, except without the ability to increase the weight against which one is working.

One such bit of gear is formed of a chair, which is mounted on a pole, which travels from the chair, to a hinge mechanism, from which issues a second pole, initially at a right angle to the chair mount, which goes up, bends over the chair, and splits in two, before dropping down to shoulder level of anyone sitting in the chair. The aim of this bit of gear, is that anyone sitting in the chair can grasp the handles at the end of the over arcing split arm, and push them away from their body, which lifts the chair, and thereby the bodywieght of the user. This exercise is supposed to help one develop ones arms and chest.

The equipment I am talking about, was the one which I could use, with the greatest possible feild of view of my son, and since keeping him in my eyeline is essential when we are out and about, I selected it based on that ideal positioning. It also happened to be helpful to me that this was the item with the best vantage point, because I have somewhat of a thickish ribcage, and arms which appear to belong to someone with a much smaller chest cavity. That being said, I am by no means obese, just a regular sized fellow really, just proportionally strange. And so, I thought to myself as I made ready to sit down at the machine, this would be ideal for me.

It was only when my bottom was hovering over the seat, that I hit a snag. You see, my shoulders did not fit between the overhanging handles, and I became temporarily wedged in place. Now, as I have mentioned, I am not an obese man, nor am I overly muscular. I am five feet and ten or eleven inches tall. I have a forty four inch chest, yes, but as I explained above, my arms are pretty inconsiderable in terms of size. The end result is that although I am far from skinny, I am not outside the average size for an adult British male. And yet here, in a public park in my home town, is a piece of workout gear, which appears not to be made for a man of my construction.

If you have never been in a scenario like this, then to make you aware of the effect this had on my ego, I must take a moment to describe my initial reaction to the sensation of being wedged between these handles. I was at once concerned that I had somehow vastly underestimated the expansive effect of my yearly ale allowance, and impressed at the same moment that my arms and chest were wedged, as I manipulated my triceps muscles to free myself from my impromptu incarceration. It was very disconcerting. I was fairly sure that I knew my physical parameters, and I did not expect to be caught in such an intimate embrace by this glorified bit of moving furniture. And yet there I was, caught up in a steel hug.

When I had freed myself, and actually managed to take a seat on the chair provided, I had time to take stock of the situation as my son giggled at me from his chosen workout gear. The assortment of equipment in the fitness park, is provided courtesy of a collaboration between the local council, and the sports clothing manufacturer, Adidas. Given that, one has to assume that it is part of the government drive to keep Britain fit, an effort which is much needed of course. This would suggest that all the gear there has been made so that ANYONE can use it, save of course for those simply too young and small, or at the highest ends of the weight register. For more than a moment, an inanimate object made me feel like I was six times my size, and that was a very, very strange experience.

Of course, once I actually took my seat, and began to use the equipment, I could immediately see the use of it, as I felt a pleasing warmth in my chest and arms after a short while, and attained a decent rythmn for my movements. When I was done with that, and a few other bits and bobs around the fitness park, I actually felt quite good about everything, the increased blood flow to a few neglected areas of my anatomy chasing away some aches, and creating a few others here and there. This is something positive I have taken away from this unsettling experience.

But I fear it will be some time before I forget that inanimate objects have the ability to make us question the simplest things about ourselves, even down to things like what actual size we are.

Very eloquent, the ultimate paean to possible perceived portliness.

a reply to: TrueBrit

I don't know how you do it man..
Had me lost in a story about workout equipment..
And I didn't want it to end. Lol

a reply to: TrueBrit

Exercise is a science nowadays, why can't we just play a friendly game of backyard cricket where our drunken uncles bowl yorkers at us just like the good old days?

a reply to: TrueBrit

Dude, you can make the fact that you got stuck in a machine sound so damn interesting. I bet you would be a hoot at story time around the campfire.

originally posted by: AugustusMasonicus

Very eloquent, the ultimate paean to possible perceived portliness.

Portly is such an ugly term. We prefer "robust".

a reply to: AugustusMasonicus
Precisely!
a reply to: Reverbs
I am glad that you found this rambling blatherfest enjoyable Reverbs!
a reply to: Thecakeisalie
Indeed sir, indeed. It has been some time since last I played a good game of back yard cricket, or any sort of cricket what so ever for that matter, and that is a shame, for I did so love it when I used to play often.
a reply to: network dude
I am glad that you were able to engage with this relatively mundane waffle! Thank you for your kind response! Normally speaking, when myself and friends are gathered around the fire pit in my pals back yard, we do not exchange stories, but instead pass beers to one another. None the less, we often find that there is much communication in these moments, a sort of sub vocal network which tends to spring up after a long period of association with any group of people. I hear they call such a thing a "companionable silence". Personally, I think it may also be code for "The people you love are currently too drunk to speak."

Really?

What is the point?

It took you over ten paragraphs to explain you got stuck in a piece of furniture. Are you a Stephen King wannabe?

I guess it was an interesting story. (rolling my eyes.)

a reply to: TrueBrit

At first I wondered whether you fell into a square peg in around hole scenario .


But as I read your closing I wonder if it was purposely designed tight to enforce A feeling of being out of shape ? Thereby almost subliminally increasing a desire to get fit .

a reply to: Greathouse

I have, since my visit to the park, come to understand that I am precisely the shape that I have always suspected I am, and that the confusion was largely caused by my expectation of the shape and scale of the machinery. That said, I did enjoy the sensation of using the equipment, once the scale issue had been solved.

I will be going back. So if what you say is accurate, then damn me for a fool, but it worked. To be fair, I could stand to do a little more with myself these days.

a reply to: highfromphoenix

But the point of the OP was not to tell everyone I got stuck in some furniture. The point of the OP was to highlight the way that a mundane, inanimate, and totally unprepossessing object, had the ability to make me, a thinking, feeling, conscious being, question something as simple as my understanding of my physical boundaries.

Surely, if you did more than skim read the thing, you realised that?

a reply to: TrueBrit

Okay.

Cool......

originally posted by: Greathouse
a reply to: TrueBrit

At first I wondered whether you fell into a square peg in around hole scenario .

Ouch!

Dude... ha.

I liked the ego check and the questioning, part, and it did make me want to get in better shape. If not physically, then some sort of mindset to put myself in today to test my own limitations, and push them in a way.

a reply to: TrueBrit

Yep a little hard work has never killed anybody under 50 . Lol

a reply to: Greathouse

Haha!

Exactly! I really like hard work. There is nothing quite as enjoyable as being constantly engaged in the solving of interesting problems all day. A day in which I fail to do this, is a day in which I have failed to earn my ale!

a reply to: TrueBrit

Loved it! It reminded me of Chris Farley on SNL! (Not that you are overweight, clearly you are not) but Chris Farley was an obese comedian on SNL, and he would get in these awkward situations (not unlike the one you describe) and then he would absolutely PANIC and begin 'fighting' the inanimate object, hurt himself, and of course say his funny line "that's going to leave a mark".

However, I trust that you were able to extricate yourself from said piece of equipment gracefully? hehe

a reply to: ladyinwaiting

I had to wriggle free by pushing my triceps against each bar, one at a time. I managed to shuffle out that way, then had to get into the thing crab wise to get seated properly. It really is a most bemusing contraption, for all that its function is fairly simple to grasp! It was not the most graceful endeavour I have ever undertaken, not by a long chalk.

originally posted by: TrueBrit
It was not the most graceful endeavour I have ever undertaken, not by a long chalk.

Please record your next ungainly encounter with this metallic contraption.




Purely for academic purposes, of course.

a reply to: TrueBrit

You're lucky you were able to get out. It saved you the embarrassment of having the fire department cut you out of it.

I went to an amusement park with a friend of mine once. There were these swings that go round and round like this:

Anyway, my friend is a big guy. He weighed about 250 pounds at the time, maybe more. He wasn't able to ride because the safety belt wouldn't fit. The one that went around him was snug but clicked into place. The one that went between his legs not so much. I felt bad for him.

a reply to: TrueBrit

somewhat of a thickish ribcage

............. and there's the rub. Some rat bastard along the line determined that the idealized human being would do X with Y machine and you just happened to not fit the mold. No shame to it. You can use your own weight as resistance and don't have to rely upon machines designed by the aforementioned RB.

......but I get your point. You should not have to question your worth as measured by a machine designed by someone else. You have worth and you have strength and the measure of that strength is how you can press your own weight and how many times. You are your own heavy bag. I am also, which is why I understand this paradigm.