Thursday, May 04, 2006
The Running Man
Going to my gym can be a strange experience for many reasons. First of all, it's right by my office, so my workout can at any moment be interrupted by the sight of Carl the Angry Partner taking out some aggression on the stairmaster or Lisa the Pear-Shaped Secretary doing squat thrusts. Then, this gym has for some reason chosen to hire only personal trainers who appear to be in serious need of life support, so there's always the thrill of wondering if you're just a stomach crunch away from a paramedics visit. And of course there are all the Elderly Nude Man Locker Room Hijinks I've had occasion to comment on before. Suffice it to say that I see no reason one must go full frontal to perform one's gentle stretches.
But today I had one of the stranger experiences I have ever had at my gym. While huffing away on the elevated running track, I encountered a dazed-looking gentleman wandering the wrong direction. And when I say "encountered" I mean "nearly plowed into." Being the fitness fanatic that I am, however, I continued on my way undeterred, only to encounter him on my next lap doing push ups and toes touches right in the middle of the track. This required some Jackie-Joyner-Kersee-caliber hurdling on my part in order to avoid disaster on a Meredith Baxter-Burney level, but I pulled it off. Only to find him sprawled on his back, apparently napping, on my third trip around.
And yes, I did check to see if he was okay, and no, there was nothing physically wrong with him. Actually, he got a little bit sassy with me for checking. He resented the implication, I think, that there was anything less than 100% standard about his behavior.
If this turns into the hot new workout craze I'm moving to Guatemala.
Going to my gym can be a strange experience for many reasons. First of all, it's right by my office, so my workout can at any moment be interrupted by the sight of Carl the Angry Partner taking out some aggression on the stairmaster or Lisa the Pear-Shaped Secretary doing squat thrusts. Then, this gym has for some reason chosen to hire only personal trainers who appear to be in serious need of life support, so there's always the thrill of wondering if you're just a stomach crunch away from a paramedics visit. And of course there are all the Elderly Nude Man Locker Room Hijinks I've had occasion to comment on before. Suffice it to say that I see no reason one must go full frontal to perform one's gentle stretches.
But today I had one of the stranger experiences I have ever had at my gym. While huffing away on the elevated running track, I encountered a dazed-looking gentleman wandering the wrong direction. And when I say "encountered" I mean "nearly plowed into." Being the fitness fanatic that I am, however, I continued on my way undeterred, only to encounter him on my next lap doing push ups and toes touches right in the middle of the track. This required some Jackie-Joyner-Kersee-caliber hurdling on my part in order to avoid disaster on a Meredith Baxter-Burney level, but I pulled it off. Only to find him sprawled on his back, apparently napping, on my third trip around.
And yes, I did check to see if he was okay, and no, there was nothing physically wrong with him. Actually, he got a little bit sassy with me for checking. He resented the implication, I think, that there was anything less than 100% standard about his behavior.
If this turns into the hot new workout craze I'm moving to Guatemala.
