Gym Confusion

I like to work out.  I’m one of those people that needs to exert a lot of energy or else I go crazy.  Not kill people crazy, just annoy the crap out of my boyfriend crazy.  Running has always been my go-to exercise, although I like to dabble in yoga and weights from time to time as well.  But running seems to be the best way I can exhaust myself and sweat out all the booze from the night before in one go.

I’ve always felt at home in a gym as well; it doesn’t matter where I am, but if there is exercise equipment involved usually look like I know what I’m doing. I used to feel sorry for those girls who would walk into a gym with their hair neatly done and their mouths shining with lip-gloss, spending the first 10 min trying to figure out “quick start” means on the elliptical; but now I just generally think they are idiots. 

Today I went for a run.  There weren’t too many people in the gym, so I had the treadmills all to myself; which is nice because sometimes I get into a run-off with the person next to me, even though they don’t usually know about it.  I got into a nice rhythm and turned on my music on my iphone (come on grandma, no one uses as iPod anymore) and pretty soon I was into a steady pace.

Then, everything took a turn. 

We recently got free weights in our gym…I know, I can’t believe we didn’t have them before either, but that’s a whole other wildly heated rant.  What this means, though, is that guys who are not really ready for the whole physical exercise deal end up coming down to the gym to “move some weight”. Yup, as if the agro alpha male in board shorts and sandals doing chin ups isn’t enough.  So today, one of these under achieving males decided to strap on his roommates weight lifting gloves and stand around next to the weight rack trying to look fit.

Now, my treadmill is next to the weight room, which is separated by a glass wall.  So this freak show was literally standing 2 feet away from where I was running - yet by the grace of some brilliant design team, he was technically standing in a different room.  And stand there, he did.  For 20 min.  Staring at me.

For TWENTY minutes (I know this because the treadmill timer was glaring me down in a mocking “you’ll never finish” way) he stood there, with a stupid little smirk on his face.  How was I supposed to run with this crazy guy staring me down? How can I enjoy my only ‘run the anger off’ time if I have this weirdo checking me out? I don’t look good right now! I’m sweating, panting for air, my hair is all over the place, I’m wearing a freakin’ Blue Jays t-shirt for gods sake…no boobs are visible AT ALL!

Wait, what if he’s staring at me because I look ridiculous? Do I have snot on my face!? Are my pants on backwards? I looked down and assessed myself….no, everything is in order, thank god I remembered to wear underwear today.  So what is it!? Why is he shaking his head at me? Why is he cheering me on every few minutes? He’s like a crazy manic stalker, I’m not sure if he’s criticizing or applauding me? How can he actually feel comfortable standing there in between his piddly sets, staring at me!!??

I should have just stopped running and reported him to management, had him banned from the gym altogether.  No, I should have walked over and ninja kicked him in the balls.  I finished my run and wiped the sweat off my face.  I shot him a quick angry glance and turned around.  I was thinking of all the things I should be saying to him when I noticed the TV on the wall behind me.  Right…behind…me.

Oh, the Hockey game is on.  Oh…I guess he might have been watching that.

His weight lifting gloves were still super lame.