No such animals

OK, here is the truth. In a moment of (wait, how can I spin this to place blame elsewhere?) complete awareness meltdown, I allowed "an accident" to occur. By now you should know that I believe there exists no such animals, and all "mishaps" arise simply as a result of our spatiotemporal displacements, eg, not paying attention. Or not enough attention. So now I sit and type with a right index finger wrapped with ten yards of gauze, secured with black athletic tape and throbbing in semi-delayed syncopation with my saddened heart. 

Goes for slow typing I can assure you, especially for the hunter-pecker. 

Here is the story. You may consider this a public service announcement. 

After our 1000 TbP session I decided to save the company some dough. Instead of a costly service call to repair one of our noisy Keiser M3 spin bikes, I felt ready to tackle the job. I had some help. Paul, the savvy maintenance man had a room full of tools and an hour to lend. We dug in. At one point I was on one side of the flywheel holding a 5mm bolt with my right hand with a flashlight in my left to illuminate his work with the telescoping magnet and flat screwdriver as he held the lock nut perfectly in place so I could insert the aforementioned bolt. We managed to do this four times and then reset the plastic belt cover shroud and reassemble the cover. Took us an hour but we got it.

That should have been the end of the story. And they spun happily ever after. BUT NOOOOOOOOOO.

I felt empowered, even cocky in the completion of the repair and as I walked towards the shower room, I passed Keiser number 6. It had been making some noise of late and armed with the "victory" over number one and with the wisdom of that experience I felt like the same job on Old #6 would be a piece of cake, so I dropped my backpack and headed back for the tools.

Cover off, shroud loosened, inspection underway. I couldn't find exactly where the noise was emulating and in the process I ran my finger along the moving belt for the tell-tale tactile test. The tensioned belt immediately grabbed the finger and tried to run it past the tensioning pulley and in ONE SECOND had mashed, mangled and ripped open a pair of one-inch gashes, one atop, one under.  

I stood agog. Aghast. Appalled. Shocked that I had allowed this carnage to happen. Humiliated and embarrassed I sauntered to the locker room to access the damage and stop the bleeding. A deep, but clean, cut on top, and a severe mash wound underneath. We wrapped it tight and I headed back to clean up the mess. 

There is my sad story. I re-dressed it last night after re-filling my Safeway prescription for Malbec, and decided that it would be OK. Most likely. Maybe not. I have heard some pretty good guitar players with missing digits. 

In keeping with the metaphysical theme of the last paragraph, or for the Buddhists and/or social scientists among you, check this out on our fear of dying. 

On a lighter note here is a list of things you can do to lose those unwanted extra pounds. Two things jump out: Eat early and drink green tea. 

Lastly, is more ways to boost your metabolism.

You can always start with 85% of your estimated gear 15 sweet spot and dial it up progressively along with the onset of fatigue. As another example.

Just stay present. Keep your awareness chinstrap fastened TIGHT. 

Pic: Jerry swears there are no such animals.