Do not be surprised.
Do not be surprised when I read you the riot act.
Do not be surprised when I read you the riot act in the middle of my 5th elevation-interval pyramid, 68 minutes into my workout.
Do not be surprised when I read you the riot act in the middle of my 5th elevation-interval pyramid, 68 minutes into my workout because you’re now about to leave the treadmill for the 4th time to go talk on your cell phone and increase your current total of 21 minutes of talk time.
…perhaps we should start back at the beginning…
I’m normally a very calm and reasonable person. It takes a lot to really tick me off. You have to try very very very hard to get my angry. It only happens a couple times a year at most.
See, my gym has a 30 minute limit on the treadmills if others are waiting, but most times this isn’t an issue because there’s enough turnover that I can sail through a 90 minute workout. And, should someone need it – I will heed the rules and let someone have my ride.
So…This middle-aged headband wearing book reading cell phone wielding walker lady was on the treadmill and constantly getting on/off while still ‘owning’ the treadmill with her stuff. And she was going in and out of the weight room to talk on her cell phone. At 6-8 minutes a shot. Seriously. This was really stressing me out because now I had the ‘high count’ on the treadmill – as every time she’d walk out her treadmill would reset. Never mind the fact that she had a book covering her numbers.
So, in the middle of my 5th pyramid set/interval at a 5:55 equivalent pace and 68 minutes into this hellish workout this lady’s cell phone rings and she stops her treadmill to answer it and walk out and talk again.
And as she steps behind my treadmill (with her cell) I let into her.
The exact linguistic details of what I said aren’t fully important. For a full minute I read her the riot act. I recalled to her exactly how many minutes she’d been on, exactly how many minutes she’d spent outside talking, exactly when she spent time outside talking, and how her treadmill would reset the numbers and she was hiding it with her book. I explained to her that it was one or the other – not both. Everyone turned around to watch, as I was pretty pissed and making a fair commotion.
She attempted to sputter out a slew of excuses, each of which I shot down faster than a machine gun without missing a step (or falling off the treadmill while busting my butt mid-interval). I just had too much data against her case – I had nothing better to do than count the minutes she spent away or doing other things. She had nothing.
Suffice to say, she did not end up answering her cell phone after all and went back to walk-reading.
I ended up giving up my treadmill at the end of that set and went outside to finish my workout. When I returned she was still on the treadmill, and stayed there for over 2 hours (when I left the gym).
So, let this be a warning. If you elect to utilize a treadmill as a ride where you get on and off and talk on your cell phone, then…
…do not be surprised when I read you the riot act.