Thanks for nothing, Kardashians!
So, working out. Am doing it. Three days a week, it's me and Jillian (and Mark, who has joined us for some Shredding) at the dirty ass crack of dawn...5 a.m.
Two or three days a week, it's me and the treadmill, slowly making our way from Couch to 5k. I try to do all my running on my lunch break. There is a workout room that I can use. And by Workout Room, I mean Glorified Closet With Two Treadmills, An Elliptical, and Some Monstrous Nautilus Equipment.
I'm sure we all know that there are people who make me want to claw out my own eyes in the Glorified Closet With Two Treadmills, An Elliptical, and Some Monstrous Nautilus Equipment.
The Couch to 5k (I do this one) is three days per week. I used to run on M, W, and F in the Glorified Closet With Two Treadmills, An Elliptical, and Some Mosntrous Nautilus Equipment. But I kept seeing these two uber friendly 40-something guys.
And they wanted to be gym friends. I promise I'm not acting all oh, these guys are hitting on me because I look soooo pretty in sweatpants and old tee shirts. They weren't. They were chatting with me. Do I like basketball? No. Do I lift weights? Not unless you count lifting drumsticks to my mouth as lifting weights. How do you like your iPhone? I like it more than I like talking to you.
I do not want gym friends. I also don't want elevator friends, or public restroom friends. I simply to do not enjoy small talk and am incapable of pretending that I do.So, in order to avoid my Gym Friends, I switched my treadmill days to Tuesday and Thursday. And it worked! No more Gym Friends.
Well, it worked for a week. Now? Now, it's Lights Out Lady.
Lights Out Lady uses the treadmill while blasting oldies on the public use CD player. Also? She does not wipe down the equipment after she uses it. She does all of these things in the dark.
I'm so not into running on a treadmill, in the dark. Call me crazy, but getting sweaty and breathing heavy with someone in a dark room is something that I save for...you know? NOT THE
When I get there after her, I turn the light on. I mean, I have to deal with her blaring oldies and her sweat drips left to dry all over the place. The least she can deal with is...light. (Can you imagine? Oh, the humanity!) And she never fails to wait the 20 seconds for me to get into hearing range before she gives a totally exhasperated sigh.
Last week? She turned the lights back off during my cool down. She stopped her treadmill mid-walk, went across the room, and turned off the lights.
Is it just me, or is that strange behavior?
Maybe I'll just give up on working out and buy bigger pants.
One Year Ago: No! Sleep! Till Brooklyn!
Two Years Ago: Lupron Eve