I've been going to the gym for about a year now. I joined last February, took about two weeks to screw up the courage to go in there, and started run/walking in March. I had the whole Couch to 5K thing, but after weeks of trying, I just couldn't get past running four minutes at a time. Which - at the time - seem insurmountable. I mean, when I first started, 30 seconds of running was all I could manage. Come June, Cricket told me about this running club whose goal was to run a 5K in September and I joined! So, we spent the summer months blissfully (hahaha! Humid! Hot! Hard!) running outdoors, working up to running 30 minutes at a time. We did the 5K, kept running, did another 5K in October and last November, I finished my 3rd 5K with my best time yet. Well. Cue a whole month of not running, and I found myself back at the gym. The ice is just too scary for me to consider. Plus, I like the gym. I like the safety of the treadmill. The idea that I can stop whenever I want and not have to hobble home if something goes wrong. The whole hardware in my leg and ankle thing is and will always be an issue.
But seriously people, clue me in. I am not a gym rat by any means. I don't spend hours and hours there, flexing and lifting and running and biking and doing planks in the corner. I do my business and leave. But isn't there something called "gym etiquette?" Is there? And I'm not talking about the whole walking around nude in the dressing room thing. I'm all whatever about that. I'm talking about odors. I realize that people sweat and possibly smell when they work out. I sweat profusely. Disgustingly so. But I don't smell. And I'm okay with a bit of work-out BO. It happens, right? I'm not talking about that either.
I wasn't really in the mood to run last night, but I know that if I want to do the 5 miler in March, I have to step it up - so to say. So there I was. Running 6 minutes, walking 3 minutes - the goal of which was to get to 3 miles. It wasn't so bad. I can talk myself into finishing those 6 minutes pretty easily. But right about 2.5 miles, someone stepped on the treadmill beside me. I've noticed that there is some sort of rule there. People kind of go every other one unless they're friends and gabbing it up. But the whole "OMG! It's the New Year! I must exercise!" crowd is there. I know it will thin out come February, but for now, it's not uncommon for people who don't know one another to be forced into a kind of intimacy they don't really desire. I just focus on looking straight ahead and try to ignore it, right? Well, I'm first assaulted by the odor of "unwashed down below." Not nice. Wash your PARTS, people. But fine. I'm almost done, right? And then? She passed some serious gas. SERIOUS. Gagalish stank. OMG! Fine. It will go away and I'll just finish up. People toot. That's life. BUT SHE KEPT DOING IT. Over and over. As soon as the first one would clear and I'd think, "Thank God. Just a half mile left!" and she'd let ANOTHER ONE rip. Seriously, people. Seriously! Really? At 2.8 miles, I hit the cool down button. Done. Done. And done. Workout ruined by the stink.