I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm hoping someone will invent a way for me to type safely while driving my kids around. I mean, why shouldn't I have a laptop embedded in my minivan's steering wheel? It's not like I'm doing any difficult driving.
Anyway.
So the other day I was at the gym (what I really need is an elliptical trainer with an embedded laptop, then I could be skinny and a consistent blogger!), because that's what I do now. My weight loss has been slow, because well, I have to lose a lot of weight. And because I refuse to diet. So I'm still one of the bigger gals at the gym, but who cares?
No one, except for the woman I had the unfortunate experience of exercising next to the other day. At first, as she kept looking in my direction, I thought she was looking at the TV that was tuned to ESPN. Because I too would rather watch ESPN than Rachel Ray, I glanced at her, planning on smiling in a friendly way. But the woman was not looking at ESPN. She was looking at the numbers on my machine.
Now, of course I've looked at other people's incline and resistance numbers before, or checked their speed on the treadmill. I have nothing against being a nosy bitch. But I try not to let them know I'm looking, and I certainly don't sneer while I'm doing it. Not so this woman. She looked at my numbers, looked at her numbers, looked back and then upped her resistance to match mine. For real.
I went back to focusing on my magazine because sometimes I can be a little self-conscious/self-absorbed/slightly paranoid. But a few minutes later, when the harder part of my interval kicked in, I noticed her doing it again. And she was struggling. But she kept glancing at me and upping her resistance to match mine.
Have I mentioned that she completely ignored the slim woman on the other side of her? Whose resistance was much higher than mine? Apparently she just didn't want the fat chick to be stronger than she was. Or something. Everything I did, she did. She even changed her time on the machine when I switched magazines and she could see my time.
I suddenly saw my 13 year old self, being okay with the acknowledged school genius beating me on a test but flipping out when someone I didn't think was so smart beat me. And instead of saying something to the competitive woman I gave her the same "bless your bitchy, immature heart - I really pity you" smile I would have given to my 13 year old self.
Next time, though? I'm totally tripping her.
4 comments:
WoW! that's seems crazy! I have looked, glanced, too at other people's numbers but nothing to that extreme. maybe she needs some sort of immediate motivation, but, that's weird. somehow though I totally relate to your 13 year old self!!
wow, that seems beyond nutso to me.
Why do people have to be that way?!?
What also gets me is when women get all dolled up to go to the gym (full makeup)
I like the tripping her idea.
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