Don't Break My Treadmill Zone.

Recently I've started running. I've been looking for an easy way to get back my Karate fit self but I haven't been to a Karate class in 2 years. My city recently built a Community Center that has fitness equipment. For the very affordable price of $175 a year I can torture myself on a treadmill.

Actually, I prefer running on the treadmill over running outside because it's easier on my knees and I can read. I work out my body and my mind. However, this weekend reminded me that there are some people in this world that shouldn't be allowed anywhere near fitness equipment.

Saturday morning I was in a zone. I was twenty minutes into my hour run, I was running at a decent speed, and jamming out to BoA's new English album while I read a novel called Sushi for One? (a book so far I like). Because I was holding the book, after every paragraph or so, I look up to see when my speed settings will change (I alternate between fast and slow) so I don't trip. It was during one of these safety check moments I notice a couple nearing their sixties staring at me.

Staring is putting it mildly. They were pointing at me. What are my pants falling down? was my first thought. I tried to ignore them. I wasn't in the mood to talk to people and I knew I wasn't in a mood to talk to these people. She looked like an aged Barbie that had been dunked in cotton candy in her matching pink Adidas workout gear and he looked like a lost air traffic controller with his big, orange radio headphones that could easily pick up signals from Mars. Trying to ignore them was a mistake, because like a cougar on the hunt they walked up to me and Candy grabbed my arm.

Now, anyone with common sense knows that you shouldn't grab people on moving machinery who both can't hear you and have their nose in a book. Common sense was not a gift given to these two.

Naturally, I freak out, stumble and try to hit the stop button all the while they're saying something to me but I can't hear a word they're saying because BoA is still being pumped into my ear drums at decibels that could drown out a train.

So when I finally do balance myself, have a free hand...and skittishly rip out one of my ear buds, here's how the convo went down:

"Did you buy that?" Candy said.

"What?! HUH?" I said with a skyward jump, dropping my book and ripping out one of my ear buds.

"Did you buy that?" she repeated.

"Yeah it's an iPod," fumbling to hit the stop button as I drifted closer and closer to the edge.

She gave me a look that could kill, "I know what it is, I have one."

"Okay....?" I asked wondering why she seemed offended.

"Did you buy that?" She repeated again.

"Yes." I said with a tone that indicated get to your eeefing point already.

"I'm looking for an arm band for mine."

"Oh. Meijer."

"Oh! OK! Thanks!" she said in a voice that conveyed all was forgiven. Only, I was anything but in the mood to forgive.

"That's really impressive that you can hold your book like that," her husband chirped

I panted, "Is it?"

"Yes. That's a lot of balance."

Feeling the need to make a point; I said, "I was in a zone."

"Sorry we startled you," the husband said in the same annoying tone that expressed forgiveness, but I was still plotting my revenge.

Me with one eyebrow raised and a well deserved sneer on my face, "Yeah. Thanks."

Then I hit the OK button instead of the quick start, "Schiß!"

"You OK?" Candy said as she stepped onto the Treadmill next to me.

No you idiot, I just lost all the stats on my eeeefing workout because you frazzled me by your wanting to know where you could get a stupid arm band.... "Yup. Hit the wrong button."

"Oh! OK!" She exclaimed as she started her treadmill.

I secretly hoped she'd trip but at a continuous speed of 2.5 with a flat line, zero incline I knew she and her purple Nano would be happily ever after.


I have no idea how many miles I ran that day or how many calories I might have burned but I know one thing endorphins don't give some people any more common sense than if they'd banged their head against a dumbbell.