I know, you’ve been waiting on the edge of your seat…
If you don’t follow me on Dailymile, you might have no idea what I am talking about, but let me just say…
OH MY GOODNESS.
I have had my share of treadmill drama (from it not working, potentially awkward situations of just one TM in our community gym, not working again and even my ode to the treadmill) but in general, if I had to pick a camp, I am actually in the LOVE side of the equation. Yes, I said, it, I LOVE the treadmill. Obviously not as much as this girl (AMAZING) but it’s definitely an incredible asset to marathon training. Sure, I prefer running outdoors, but for many reasons sometimes a TM run is just necessary (life, schedule, etc) and I truthfully do not mind it.
That is, unless there are one of THESE around:
Yes, this is an actual photograph of the demonic presence that fixed its laser-gaze upon me for more than three miles on my treadmill run yesterday (okay, well not really but it basically is).
Haha, let me back up…
So, since Thursday I have had this weird cold-ish thing going on but it didn’t really start bothering me until Saturday, when I was scheduled to do my last ‘long’ (7-8 miles) run before next Sunday’s 26.2 – but since I felt really icky, I decided to postpone til Sunday. I slept in, hoping I would miraculously feel amazing, but to no avail.
I felt “fine” but not “fine” enough to hit those miles outdoors (low temps, windy and I really hate bailing on a run) so I reasoned a TM run would work great for this situation. I got my gear ready and headed out midday to our community gym.
Once I arrived there, there was just one other person – a woman, who was working with weights on the other side of the room. No worries. I set up my iPhone to stream Pandora (Ke$ha station) and got to it at 7.0 MPH.
The miles were rolling pretty smoothly – I just had to stop periodically to hack up some lovely phlegm (nice visual, right?!) The lady had left, too, so it was just me. I was doing a little TM-karaoke…when all of a sudden, a man (with a potbelly, may I add) and his daughter (about 7-ish) walked in.
Now, when people walk in, I usually give a little smile/wave acknowledgement – the dad returned it, but the girl – well, let’s just say her sneer toward me was theatrical. From that point forward, she stomped over to one of the leg weight machines, plopped her behind down and reverted into sulky mode, staring right at me.
Now, I had a few choice thoughts at this point, namely:
- Seriously, little girl? What’s your deal?
- If she thinks she is going to get this TM anytime soon, she is WRONG.
- Is she wearing a down jacket? It’s like 75 degrees in here, that looks uncomfortable
After a few minutes, she broke her judging gaze on me and began climbing all over different pieces of equipment, wich looked dangerous, but her dad didn’t seem to care, so whatever. I kept going…
About 10 minutes later though, apparently she couldn’t handle it anymore and she walked over to the window, sat in the sill, and gazed dramatically out. Her dad walked over and (I’m assuming) asked her what was wrong.
So, she’s crying at this point (in another language, may I add) and pointing toward my direction. Ugh – I look down and see that I am at Mile 4.5 – there is no way this girl is getting this machine from me, seriously!!
Then, her dad walks over and says (surprise surprise), “Excuse me, my daughter would like to know how much longer you will be on the treadmill?”
I said, “about 25 minutes.”
He looks back at his daughter (he is so whipped) then back at me, “thank you.”
After he goes back, she pouts more, but whatever. This little annoyance is not training for a marathon, I am sure of it. So, I turned up the music a few more notches in my headphones and do my best to zone out for a few more miles.
When I take fleeting glances over, I can see that she is now climbing all over the elliptical and getting frustrated her legs are too short. Then, she comes even closer – onto the stationary bike, where she pedals furiously while staring not at me, but through me.
WHAT IS HER DEAL?!
Still, I refuse to be defeated by a tiny person, so I ran on, no breaks for hacking up lungs, no water, nothing. Just running.
At the 59 minute mark, I have completed 7 miles – I decide that this will be my battle for today, and I will gracefully fold.
I step off the machine, clean it up then head into the restroom to wipe off my sweat. Within a minute, she is clomping away on the machine, in her winter clothes.
Aside from the annoyance that I felt that people like her and her dad have probably been responsible for the machine being down time and time again, I just LET IT GO. I got my miles in, and all was good in the world again…this time anyway….
What crazy drama do you deal with when working out?