Desperately Seeking Stability

Have you ever seen those stability things at the gym? You know, the ones that look like this:

Well, the other day when I was working out I decided to give one a try. Working on balance is a constant goal of mine since I basically have, well, none. I pulled the balance thingy over in front of the mirror and confidently attempted to hop onto it. Well, I didn't really hop onto it because that would have been stupid and disastrous.

But I stepped on with one foot...and then attempted the other. Fail. I tried again. Fail. Luckily for me, I had placed the disc-looking thingy not far from the mirror--though I'm not sure why I would be stupid enough to do that and watch myself fall all over the place. But I sure was glad it was there so I had something to brace myself against instead of face planting on the gym floor. I do offer my apologies, however, to whoever had to clean all of my finger, palm, and face marks off the mirror.

After about the third failed attempt of climbing onto the balance ball or whatever you call it, I decided it must have been the equipment that was causing the problem. God knows it wasn't  me. So I confidently retrieved the larger, more sturdy looking stability ball, trying to play it off like it was part of my workout regimen. It had a solid base, so logically it would be easier, right?

Wrong. After I fell off the first time, I turned to see the guy working out next to me staring in my direction. I smiled, and returned to my workout. Step up, fall. Step up, fall. I puffed out my breath as if I had just completed an intense workout and returned the equipment to where it belongs. I came back and gathered up my belongings, patted my forehead with my towel and headed for the treadmill. You know, sometimes walking's much easier than standing. At least for me.