Having spent most of the day in bed and learning German verbs at the library, I decided to work out a little at the local gym. As you probably didn’t know, I try to go to the gym for about an hour 3 times a week in order to stay in shape. I have to, because my life style would otherwise render me a Fat Bastard in very little time. In fact, one could argue that it already has. But I would beg to differ!
The gym that I go to is fully automatic and therefore — and most importantly — the cheapest. I don’t want to pay a fortune to work out. After all, I’m doing the one doing all the work, right? Cheap also means that the clientele is varied, both in origin and numbers, and unfortunately though entertainingly a lot of people have no clue as to how to train efficiently, healthily and even safely. I’ve seen Thai kids literally harm each other because they don’t know any better.. but anyway.
There’s this annoying guy from East/Central Europe, I gather, who always jump onto the elliptic machines when I’m there. And then he starts just running like a fucking maniac.. and it annoys the shit outta me.
Okay okay, let me tell you how this works.
The Elliptic machines are like a bike that you stand on and that you have to move with your hands and feet. They are motion-powered, so after you step on it the screen lights up and you can choose your work-out method. This is where everyone else seems to totally ignore the technology and just try to act normal.
I’m the IT guy, however, so I work out that there’s a RESISTANCE setting 1-10, that I put to 4, and a count-down timer that I set to 20 minutes. There are all sorts of resistance-variation programs going all the way from 1 to 10 to 1 again over the course of 15 minutes, but I usually stay on the manual straight pain as the doctor prescribed. The immovable handles in steel measures your pulse if you hold both hands there for a little while. I usually do 10 minutes forward, 2 minutes reverse (which is really exhausting), and 8 minutes forward without breaks with a pulse of 140-175.
While I’m doing this, the other guy is just running along so fast that you can hear that the machine is being slowly but thoroughly worn-out. Why? The grown man’s running as fast as he can with no resistance.
But that’s not all.
While I’m taking it slow and steady, pushing but saving energy and watching television, he keeps looking over at me with this stupid fucking grin on his face. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s all like: "Hey, look at me! I’m fucking owning this work-out thing. My health is 100%! And you? Sorry dude, you’re shit. Give it up, man, give it up!" .. For the entire 20 minutes. Every time I go there!
Sometimes you just want to hit’em over the head like people did way back when. Remember that? *Bom* Okay, I did a mistake, I won’t do it again. Done.
Lady C suggested that he’s what the venerable Karl Pilkington would call ‘a little gay feller’. I’m not sure about that. Maybe you have to be homosexual to work out in Post-Soviet Russia, I dunno, but just in case that is the case I’m completely ignoring everyone else around me. I understand that they may be allowed to exist in order to foot the bill for the gym, but that’s about it. You don’t look at people, never talk to them, and you don’t make a fucking pass. You’re at the gym!
I mean. Seriously.
I can understand that people would like a piece of this little cupcake; especially when I’m running on the treadmill, all red-faced, panting and farting, and sweating so hard that my man tits are lactating.. I’m like your regular male model!
But how in fucking Hamburg is running on the elliptic machines at full speed and with no resistance whatsoever supposed to impress a fucking sex machine such as myself?!
No, I think Lady C is wrong, it can’t be gayness. I think he’s just an asshole, regardless of sexual preference. And it all boils down to evolution. This guy’s had his chance, he didn’t make it into the genepool, and now he’s just waiting for the gymnastic apparatus to end his life of misery. As it will the day that he slips, and his body is caught in the cold steel of the Elliptic machines, and torn to pieces.. Anyway.. A man can dream.