Run-in with Poor Gym Ettiquette

So Today is Friday and as I look at my workout week, I must say it is an uneventful one. I did go to the gym on Wednesday and had an awful run. It was seriously the worst run I’ve had in a long, long time. It was the worst run I’ve had this entire month – even more so than my first day of training.

This is mostly due to the amount of pain radiating from my right heel. This has been going on for a about a week and a half, but usually left once I started running. Well, Wednesday was a different story. It didn’t go away and in fact became worse and worse. Add that to some minor leg pain elsewhere and, well, it’s a sad combination. I ended up spending about 17 minutes on the treadmill, which is really quite pathetic. I thought it best to just get off and not risk injury, should this be more serious that me being a complainy cry-baby.

I proceeded to the lower level in the gym for a weight workout consisting of abs, back, and biceps. Before I continue, you must know something: I hate doing abdominal workouts just about as much as I hate running. Why? I’m not certain, but I just detest it and avoid it at all costs. It wasn’t until this past weekend that I realized the more I build up my ab muscles, the less back pain I’m likely to have. So there you have it – a practical reason for doing those sit ups, crunches, etc.

As I’m lying underneath this contraption that is supposed to help support you while you roll up to do crunches (which doesn’t work, by the way, because it scoots around and I spend all of my time scooting it back into place and not really doing myself any good) I notice a person standing above me, looking at me, her lips moving. I think to myself: Could this woman be talking to me? Why would anyone talk to someone who is in the middle of humiliating herself on this ab roller thing? I determined that she must have a “gym emergency” of some kind. Perhaps I had a sticker stuck to my butt. Perhaps I looked gray and inches from death. Toilet paper hanging out of my skort – who knows. I decided to turn off my iPod and listen to her.

Here’s the conversation. I am not making this up.

Gym Woman: Are you the girl who came in wearing the cute coat?
Me: Huh?
GW: You know, the brown-ish coat with the fur collar? And where did you get your sunglasses?
Me: (in disbelief. I must be dreaming) What? My coat? Huh?
GW: Where’d you get it? Did you get it in Eugene?

Before I continue, you should know the background on these items.

THE COAT:
I bought the coat (which is quite nice) in Chicago at Nordstrom two Thankgsgivings ago. I was visiting my sister and didn’t have a heavy coat (it doesn’t get very cold here) and needed one (freezing in Chicago). When I purchased it, I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly. I liked the way it looked and it was a reasonable price. We get back to her house and someone asks: Is that coat down? I said I didn’t think so because it wasn’t very expensive and it’s not very thick. I checked the label and it was indeed down. It was at this time that I also discovered the fur is REAL. I was sort of in shock, you know? I’m opposed to fur and, like I said, it was no where near expensive. My sister immediately proclaims: “You can’t wear THAT in Eugene! They’ll flick red paint on you”. And she’s sort of right. Plus, it doesn’t get very cold here and I don’t have that many occasions to wear a down, fur coat anyway. I briefly consider returning it. I concluded that because I didn’t know the fur was real (seriously – I did not), that it was an innocent enough mistake and I won’t be wearing it much anyway (I can justify anything). Needless to say, I am not enthusiastic to give details on this coat. If someone asks me (and people do) I tell them the story and it makes me feel like less of a jerk for wearing fur. Do you think I wanted to have this conversation lying on my back, underneath the ab roller at the gym? No.

The SHADES:
These are prescription. They are a medium brown wood grain look with bling on each side. Lots of sparkle, lots of frame, too. I was going for that fun glam look. Sort of like J-Lo. What I got, however, was Elton John. I am serious. They make me look like Sir Elton, not J-Lo. Oh well. A total miss, but they are still cool. I wouldn’t say they look great on me. I wouldn’t even say they look good on me. They have that “dude looks like a lady” vibe. Needless to say, I’m not in the mood to discuss this either from the floor of the gym to someone who has zero gym etiquette.

OK – Back to the story:

As I’m lying on the ground, trying to remain polite and searching for something to say that didn’t sound rude, I seriously could not think of a single explanation that would take under 30 seconds to tell. SO, I did what any honest, hard working, dedicated gym go-er would do. I lied to get her to go away. I said they were both a gift from someone who lives in Chicago and no, I don’t know where she purchased them, and no, I’m not even certain what brand they are.

So there you have it – my first gym lie, albeit a small one and done for the sole purpose of getting on with my workout. I’m sort of shocked about it myself. I would imagine any lie I would tell in the gym would be an exaggeration of my workout. But no. It was in relation to my two apparently snazzy articles of clothing that I wore INTO the gym.

I do have more interesting info from this week, but will need to save it for my next post. Till then, dear readers!