Yesterday I was on the lookout for a new kettlebell for my brother.
It was his birthday this week, and I thought that since he’s on a fitness kick, it would be a great gift.
I dreamt of a world in which all Palluzzis loved bells at much as I did.
My initial plan was to go to Target after work to procure said gift, but I was in Marshall’s on my lunch break and spotted a beautiful 20 lb. bell.
So I hauled it up to the cash register and bought it.
And then I lugged it a couple blocks back to my office.
My arms hurt by the time I got it to my cubicle, and I shared my purchase with my pal JK, who asked me how I thought I was going to get it home.
At quitting time, I put it in a reusable grocery bag and tested the straps. It didn’t seem to be in any danger of breaking, so I walked out of the building with it, struggling only slightly.
By the time I got to the red line, I was huffing and puffing, and my biceps were cringing.
But I had made it, I thought triumphantly.
It was then that I noted that there were about, oh, ten emergency vehicles surrounding the el stop.
Being a true Chicagoan, I did not let this deter me, but instead marched down the stairs, where I figured I’d get some information.
The station was smoky, and there were a million firefighters loitering around.
Not a CTA employee to be found, but that was no surprise.
What I finally got from some obvious eavesdropping was that there had been an electrical fire on the el tracks. The fire was out (not to worry) but it could be awhile until the trains were moving.
I looked around at the tunnel full of angry commuters, and sighed.
Then I took up my bell in my arms like it was a child, and marched back up the stairs.
And trekked close to two-thirds of a mile to the Brown line.
It was icy and dark, and I was moving pretty slowly, which is my number one walking pet peeve.
But the kettlebell felt increasingly heavy in my arms, and I couldn’t schlep much faster.
Plus, it was throwing me off balance.
A good reminder that an extra 20 lbs. would render me immobile.
I finally made it to the Merchandise Mart stop right as I was considering just laying down in the snow and succumbing to hypothermia.
Yes, I was feeling dramatic.
Then I mounted the three flights of steps and wondered what would happen if I tripped. I sensed that the weight of the bell would propel me backwards to my certain death.
I climbed even slower.
By the time I got home, it felt like I had been to an hour long kettlebell class that focused solely on my damn biceps.
The things I do for a good birthday gift.
Bells this morning was, understandably, rough, and even Gene looked at me with alarm when I told him my story.
Next time, I’m sticking to Target chickens.
And that’s all there is to it.