I was running on the treadmill, which is never something I like to do, but I was scheduled to run 4 x 1600 intervals and the high school track that I usually run on was unavailable. In between my intervals I broke one of the cardinal rules of running on the treadmill: Never try to get back on it while it's still running. I should know better.
It was after my first interval that I decided to jump off the treadmill and turn the fan up to the highest setting. Having adjusted the fan I turned around and stepped onto the side rails of the treadmill so that I could commence running again. Except I missed the left side rail with my foot and was surprised to find it rocketing towards the back of the treadmill like a fighter plane shot off an aircraft carrier. My finely honed survival skills instantly kicked in, and with ninja-like quickness I put a kung-fu death grip on the hand rail with my right hand. As my left foot disappeared off the back of the treadmill it caused my body to twist violently before being thrown off to the right of the treadmill in a spinning motion that left me facing away from it. Still holding on with my right hand I got my feet beneath me and as I pulled myself up the treadmill tipped slightly towards me. Now back in control of my balance I let go of the treadmill and sent it crashing back to it's upright position with a thud. I quickly composed myself, climbed back on and started it up again.
A couple of seconds later my wife came bursting through the basement door. "Are you OK?" she asked. I looked at her with my best expression of shock and surprise as if to say whatever do you mean? Look at me running. Look at me. Does it look like I've just fallen off the treadmill? Would I look this composed and calm if I had just been flung from the treadmill like dog poop off a shovel? Do you not know that I have cat-like reflexes? Puh-lease woman, I take umbrage at your insinuation. My wife frowned. "Maybe it was the boys?"
"Maybe what was the boys?" I replied still feigning ignorance.
"I thought I heard a loud noise. It must have been the boys."
"Yup. Must've been," I answered in my best indignant voice as if she should be ashamed for even having thought that I could fall off the treadmill. What kind of amateur does she think I am?
And that my friends, is how you fall off a treadmill. Here endeth the lesson.