My gym has the smallest parking lot. And there is nowhere to add additional spots, so there is overflow parking near the movie theater. Now, I completely understand that parking a mile away is a pain the butt when you hardly want to be there in the first place. But do people REALLY need to wait for parking spots at the gym? From the treadmill I can see the parking lot and you don't know how many accidents I see people almost getting into just from racing around to get to the other side's open spot. News flash: You're here to exercise. Walking 50 more feet won't really kill you.
Unless you're Plastic Suit Guy, who apparently does NOT realize he's here to exercise. My new speed to run on the treadmill is 6.0mph *takes a bow* but my comfortable speed to walk leisurely is at 3.8ish. I've seen PSG before, pre-plastic suit. He's wearing huge aviator sunglasses and brings a newspaper to the treadmill (every time), positions his two Voss water bottles in the holders, puts his newspaper over the side, and walks away. He must hold his place at the treadmill for the ensuing epic exercise time! After a few minutes (which I can only assume he has gone to the bathroom), he returns. I observe Plastic Suit Guy in his natural habitat while puffing away red-faced and dripping sweat on my own treadmill. I notice he's wearing racing gloves. Really? I watch as he puts the incline up a smidge and ups the pace to the breakneck speed of 1.8...and stays there for the duration.
Unless you're Plastic Suit Guy, who apparently does NOT realize he's here to exercise. My new speed to run on the treadmill is 6.0mph *takes a bow* but my comfortable speed to walk leisurely is at 3.8ish. I've seen PSG before, pre-plastic suit. He's wearing huge aviator sunglasses and brings a newspaper to the treadmill (every time), positions his two Voss water bottles in the holders, puts his newspaper over the side, and walks away. He must hold his place at the treadmill for the ensuing epic exercise time! After a few minutes (which I can only assume he has gone to the bathroom), he returns. I observe Plastic Suit Guy in his natural habitat while puffing away red-faced and dripping sweat on my own treadmill. I notice he's wearing racing gloves. Really? I watch as he puts the incline up a smidge and ups the pace to the breakneck speed of 1.8...and stays there for the duration.
Comments
Ann
It reminds me one day I was coming home and I saw a figure clad in all black jogging with only a pony tail sticking out the back and her eyes showing. I could only exclaim "IT'S A NINJA!" out the window. Actually, I didn't even think about it... it just came out.