There are many ways to work out the body and the mind. The most conventional of these ways include activities you can perform in a gym, on a sports team, around the block, or within your own home. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine working out in my car. Hush those dirty minds, s'il vous plaît.
I experienced the versatility of exercise in a very short period of time today. My sub-conscious must have been telling me something because I accidentally arrived 50 minutes too early for my BodyFlow class. I felt compelled to appease my inner voice so I climbed for 15 minutes on the Stairmaster, pedalled for 15 minutes on a stationary bike, and then strode (strided should be a word) for a final 15 minutes on the elliptical. Go me! After a perfect 60 minute blend of Yoga + Tai Chi + Pilates + Meditation I was super tired to say the least.
On my drive home, I noticed my van was looking like a stowaway for a family of conifers and whole grain cereal. Seriously, dried pine needles and bits of Cheerios inhabited every crevice. I tried to vacuum the floors with my handy dandy dust buster, but its battery was close to dead. Hurray for the gas station around the corner with its industrial Shop-Vac and for this sunny, double digit, January day!
This is where the fun begins. I have never used the vacuums at a gas station before. I did not know gas station van vacuuming protocol. All I know is that there is a time-limit. You must vacuum the hardest you possibly can in the 3 minutes that they give you. It's a test of strength! Of endurance! Of skill! I opened all the doors (save for the one door that refuses to open), inserted my loonies, and went to town.
I furiously cleaned the driver's side in record time. The hose wouldn't reach around to the passenger's side, so I climbed into the middle section and proceeded to clean on all fours. Then the vacuum got angry. It sucked up half my scarf and tried to eat a penny. It found a fire cracker tucked under a seat. I shrieked and threw it in the garbage. (Thanks, Grant, for giving me a heart attack!) Just when I was getting the hang of the task, the hose got a mind of its own and latched onto my hair. Bah! 3 minutes was enough.
I think I drew an audience because at the end of my van van vacuuming adventures, two gas attendants yelled over to me, "Good job!" I felt more out of breath and sweaty than I did at the gym.
I am never doing that again.