Dear Important People Who Work Out on the Treadmill Next to Me,
First of all, congrats for on getting in to the gym! It’s hard, right? I know. The gym is literally, like, 30 feet from my desk and I still have a hard time getting my butt in there after work. So for those of you who are at the other end of the building, it must be way harder. I mean, you could park near the other entrances and not even have to pass the gym to exit the building. I know this because I’ve thought about parking over there so I wouldn’t get stricken with “gym guilt” on those days that I just don’t feel like working out.
I then realized that it would be weird for me to do that because I’d have to walk about five times as far to get to and from my car and it would add at least fifteen minutes to my coming and going since I’d have to talk to all the people I know on the other side of the building on my way in and out. And if I don’t have time to run two miles, do I REALLY have time for that?!
(The answer is YES because I like talking to people much more than I like going to the gym.)
Perhaps you’re getting the idea of how hard it is for me to motivate myself to go to the gym. But I digress.
I’d like to apologize for my weird treadmill behavior.
See, I loathe running on the treadmill. To be honest, I kind of hate running in general. If it isn’t in the context of a sport – like soccer or tennis – it just seems pointless (because maneuvering a ball up and down a field in a scoreless game for 90 minutes and a point system that goes from 15 to 30 to 40 to DONE makes complete sense).
However, I’ve come to terms with the fact that running is one of the few activities that actually provides me with any satisfaction when I’m finished (Matt – I’m giving you that one…and no, I don’t “do it in heels”). And since I’m terrified to run in the dark, the treadmill will have to do until we “spring forward.” (FYI, daylight savings time is stupid.)
Where was I? Oh, right, my treadmill behavior.
See, the only way I can force my way through a 30-minute treadmill run is with the assistance of my iPod. Or more accurately, the music on my iPod. I’m sure any device that played music would do, though running with a discman would be a bit awkward (ooh, do hipsters do that? It would be sort of ironic, in that “I want to support the artists and not the man” sort of way…)
ANYWAY. I’ve loaded my device up with super-motivating tunes*. The problem with these super-motivating tunes is that they kind of make me want to dance more than they make me want to run. And dancing is WAYYYY more fun that running.
My inherent fear of falling off the treadmill keeps me from getting TOO involved in my moves. (Seriously, on my list of fears, falling off the treadmill ranks a close third behind tornadoes and being buried alive.) But I can not keep the occasional pointing at bay.
(This is probably a good time to explain to those who may not have realized that I am A) white and B) completely lacking in rhythm and C) only capable of dancing while pointing.)
I try to confine myself to the allotted treadmill space, but I realize that every now and then an arm might flail into your area. For this I do apologize. And please realize that I am not pointing AT you. (I was going to say I’m pointing with you; however, I have yet to see anyone else dance-pointing on the treadmill.)
As for the facial expressions – well, those can’t be helped either. Just know that I’m probably NOT in agonizing physical pain; rather, I’m just listening to a really emotional (but peppy and motivating!) song.
Also, I want to acknowledge the fact that I do sometimes mouth the words along with the song I am listening to, and may have accidentally sung them out loud on one or more occasions. This happens as a result of A) my white girl dance routine (singing expressively goes hand-in- hand with pointing) and B) being occasionally song-repressed by Captain Buzzkill (see the panties conversation for an example).
In short, I understand that my treadmill behavior is a little…odd. I also understand that it may be hard to take me seriously after witnessing such odd behavior. But please don’t let my bad dancing, overly-animated facial expressions and occasionally tendency toward wheezing overshadow the fact that outside the gym I am quite professional and very good at my job.
Perhaps you’ll take me more seriously when you hear that I am considering abandoning running for Jazzercise.