1. Last night at the gym a guy came in and started getting serious with the weight machines. Very serious. I was on the treadmill and he set himself up across from me. Each rep he did was punctuated with the sound you make when someone fires a cannon ball into your stomach. It wasn't really something you could get used to. I tried not to look at Dar who was on the stationary bike across the room, but every once in a while we'd catch each other's eye and I couldn't hold it in. Pretty soon I was laughing so hard, I had to hold onto the side rails while my legs continued moving like wet noodles in long slow strides. I'm pretty sure he didn't notice me.
2. I don't know why but I can't bring myself to read while I'm on the treadmill. There's something obscene and grotesque about it. I know. That's extreme. But when I see someone reading while they're on the treadmill all I can do is judge and get annoyed. "Really? You're reading? Doing one thing at a time isn't enough? (Big teenager sigh and eye roll and attempt to focus inward)...(then can't help it) How's Kim Kardashian?... Idiot."
What the hell is wrong with me? She's just working out. Calm down.
Part of it is my own shame at running indoors. I should be outside, breathing fumes and dodging traffic. Like someone serious about endurance and misery. But here I am on the treadmill (actually it's an elliptical). Like a poodle. Like a poodle, in a sports bra.
Hand me that People would ya?
Here's what I should be doing.