The Raging Bull....

Over the weekend, I went to Fright Fest at Six Flags Great America.  This was unlike any other experience I had ever had at Six Flags.  It wasn't the Halloween decorations, the extremely scary music, the chill in the air or the frightening young men and women dressed up like various dead and/or damned characters, chasing people through the park and causing general chaos within their designated "scare spots".  This was a different experience because my friend and I had already pre-planned not to ride any rides.  Now, I love rides.  I love roller coasters, swirly gigs, scramble carts, loopdy loopers, backwards cannons, crazy wheelies and face melting spin cages.  At least, I used to love them....up until THIS happened:

There was a new roller coaster I just HAD to try.  I saw it for the first time while driving down 94 and it was amazing.  It was orange and red.  I had never seen a roller coaster that was orange and red.  I knew this was something special.  The first drop alone was amazing.  This drop, at least what I could see from the highway, was WAY higher then Shock Wave, which was, up until then, the highest ride I'd ever experienced.  It looked like a steel giant, just beckoning me to feel the Gs.  I rode that thing probably 50 times that summer. I didn't go back to Six Flags for many years and for many reasons.  But one year, not that long ago, I went back to ride that orange and red monster. 

I got there relatively early and headed straight for the back of the park.  I knew right where it was and I also knew the line would be very long and very boring, but I was prepared for that.  After all, if I was this excited, there had to be hundreds of people just as enthused.  I was right.  The sign at the front of the line said "2 hour wait", but there was a queue just to GET to that sign.  I'll spare you the boring details of this tedious line, but, needless to say, it was long and almost non-moving and I probably saw at least 4 different couples giving and receiving hickeys. 

I finally got to the platform.  It took me 3 and a half hours and a whole lot of thinking of what it would feel shoot down that first drop again.  I got in line for the 3rd row.  I could've gone for the first or last row, as we all know those are the best, but I wanted to experience this in the comfort of the middle of the train as I hadn't ridden it in years.  Then the train pulled into the platform.  The gates opened and I headed for my seat.  Ooh.  Tight fit.  No matter!  I didn't have to be comfortable to ride this beast!  Then a recorded voice boomed "pull down on your lap bar."  I pulled.  It stopped.  Right on my belly.  It wouldn't click.  The attendant came around to check that everyone was safely buckled in and then he came to me.  He saw right away that the harness was not latched.  He pushed on it.  Nothing.  He put his feet on the back of the row in front of me for leverage.  He pushed again.  Nothing.  Then he called to the other attendant, "Um, can you come here?"  The second attendant came over and they BOTH pushed.  In front of EVERYONE.  There wasn't a person in that line that didn't know what was going on.  Finally, one of the guys said, "I'm going to have ask you to get off and proceed to the exit."  That was it.  I had to disembark the train, in front of EVERYONE, and go to the exit.  I was expecting some laughing or at least some snickers, but there was nothing.  Just total silence.  Everyone was stunned.  I was mortified.  I had never experienced embarrassment like that.  It didn't even occur to me that I was too fat to fit on this roller coaster.  But I was.

I should probably be too embarrassed to tell all of you this terribly intimate and  self-deprecating story.  But I'm not.  I'm more embarrassed at how I let my overeating and laziness transform my body into a rolling landscape of fat. 

For those of you still interested, I worked out after work again today.  I vow, on this very blog, that next summer, I will go on EVERY ride at Six Flags.....and not even wonder if I can fit.

XOXOXOXO