Luckily, I don't have to frequent gyms/workout rooms/weight rooms often. Since running is my primary form of exercise and I live in a place where the weather rarely gets below 20 degrees and rain isn't a regular occurrance around 5:15 AM-ish, it's just never been a necessity. Going to the gym is a perfectly acceptible way to work out and I realize that lots of people thrive in that environment but as a person who is a bit introverted, a tad unsocial and kinda intolerant, it's just better for me to spend my early mornings in the great outdoors with the homeless people and drug dealers. I feel more anonymous and if I get sweaty and gross nobody cares.
All of that aside, I do see the benefits of treadmills when it comes to speedwork...it's a lot easier to make myself run fast when the only option to not running a certain speed is a face full of moving tread, the potential loss of teeth, and a lot of embarrassment. So I do find myself, on occasion, sucking it up and trekking up to the 12th floor of my building to the community workout room for some one on one time with the hamster wheel for humans.
One night last week I found myself out of work earlier than usual and feeling the need to run fast. Hopeful of finding one of the 2 treadmills available I ventured to the workout room. First of all, the building I live in is is a little bit strange in general so it shouldn't be at all surprising that the weight room is slightly odd too. The room is on the 12th floor of a building with 11 actual floors. Basically, one room (approximately the size of an efficiency apartment without the bathroom) was built on the top of the building and the stairwell was extended to it. The room consists of 2 treadmills, 1 stationary bike, 1 stairclimber and 1 elliptical all surrounding a 5 or 6 station weighlifting contraction thingy (it looks kind of like a torture device). It's one cramped and smelly little room but it's free.
This particular night there were surprisingly few residents using the facility and there was an open treadmill (yay) which I quickly claimed and where I systematically set up house (spot for the water, space for the IPOD, put my keys over here). I started running and the first 15 minutes were lovely...then he arrived.
I was suspicious from the start as he strutted in with a huge cd player, plugged it in in front of the mirror and turned it on. Suddenly the entire room was filled with music. I'm not sure what music it was exactly because the base was so loud that you couldn't really identify the actual words or even the tune. Apparently he knew the words, though, because he was singing along...well, he was singing along when he wasn't talking loudly about how much he knew about working out and the "right" ways to lift weights. For the next 30 minutes it was a constant flow of booming base, loud talking and bad advice about how to flex. I turned up my IPOD to the highest setting possible to try to cover up the music but that did absolutely nothing other than create even more noise - my Billy Joel and Natasha Beddingfield didn't stand a chance against whatever it was he was playing. Even at their loudest, my easy listening just blended with his loud, fast bass to create a mess of incomprehensible lyrics and noise. I finally gave up in my attempts to listen to my own music and retired the IPOD for the night, left to find entertainment in his conversation with whoever would listen. In the time he was there (a total of about 30 minutes) he forced us all to listen to 5 of his songs, he dispensed lifting advice to 3 other guys (most of whom didn't take it), talked to 2 of his girlfriends on the phone and 1 girlfriend who actually came to visit him at the weightroom, practiced 4 or 5 dance moves and completed approximately 10 reps (that's 10 reps...not 10 sets of reps...he lifted a weight a total of 10 times), all while staring at himself admiringly in the mirror (yes, the entire time).
As he unplugged his cd player and walked out the door I looked down at the treadmill display to find that my workout was nearly over and that I was going faster than I had originally thought. Without the beat, the talking, and the cell phone ringing, the room seemed exceedingly quiet as we all went about our running, stair climbing, elliptical-ing, cycling and lifting. With just my music, the minutes suddenly started to feel like hours. I was thoroughly bored by my fellow workouters who just stared staight ahead, clearly focused on the task at hand - no personality at all. I decided to end a little bit early.
Who knew being annoyed could be so entertaining! :)
All of that aside, I do see the benefits of treadmills when it comes to speedwork...it's a lot easier to make myself run fast when the only option to not running a certain speed is a face full of moving tread, the potential loss of teeth, and a lot of embarrassment. So I do find myself, on occasion, sucking it up and trekking up to the 12th floor of my building to the community workout room for some one on one time with the hamster wheel for humans.
One night last week I found myself out of work earlier than usual and feeling the need to run fast. Hopeful of finding one of the 2 treadmills available I ventured to the workout room. First of all, the building I live in is is a little bit strange in general so it shouldn't be at all surprising that the weight room is slightly odd too. The room is on the 12th floor of a building with 11 actual floors. Basically, one room (approximately the size of an efficiency apartment without the bathroom) was built on the top of the building and the stairwell was extended to it. The room consists of 2 treadmills, 1 stationary bike, 1 stairclimber and 1 elliptical all surrounding a 5 or 6 station weighlifting contraction thingy (it looks kind of like a torture device). It's one cramped and smelly little room but it's free.
This particular night there were surprisingly few residents using the facility and there was an open treadmill (yay) which I quickly claimed and where I systematically set up house (spot for the water, space for the IPOD, put my keys over here). I started running and the first 15 minutes were lovely...then he arrived.
I was suspicious from the start as he strutted in with a huge cd player, plugged it in in front of the mirror and turned it on. Suddenly the entire room was filled with music. I'm not sure what music it was exactly because the base was so loud that you couldn't really identify the actual words or even the tune. Apparently he knew the words, though, because he was singing along...well, he was singing along when he wasn't talking loudly about how much he knew about working out and the "right" ways to lift weights. For the next 30 minutes it was a constant flow of booming base, loud talking and bad advice about how to flex. I turned up my IPOD to the highest setting possible to try to cover up the music but that did absolutely nothing other than create even more noise - my Billy Joel and Natasha Beddingfield didn't stand a chance against whatever it was he was playing. Even at their loudest, my easy listening just blended with his loud, fast bass to create a mess of incomprehensible lyrics and noise. I finally gave up in my attempts to listen to my own music and retired the IPOD for the night, left to find entertainment in his conversation with whoever would listen. In the time he was there (a total of about 30 minutes) he forced us all to listen to 5 of his songs, he dispensed lifting advice to 3 other guys (most of whom didn't take it), talked to 2 of his girlfriends on the phone and 1 girlfriend who actually came to visit him at the weightroom, practiced 4 or 5 dance moves and completed approximately 10 reps (that's 10 reps...not 10 sets of reps...he lifted a weight a total of 10 times), all while staring at himself admiringly in the mirror (yes, the entire time).
As he unplugged his cd player and walked out the door I looked down at the treadmill display to find that my workout was nearly over and that I was going faster than I had originally thought. Without the beat, the talking, and the cell phone ringing, the room seemed exceedingly quiet as we all went about our running, stair climbing, elliptical-ing, cycling and lifting. With just my music, the minutes suddenly started to feel like hours. I was thoroughly bored by my fellow workouters who just stared staight ahead, clearly focused on the task at hand - no personality at all. I decided to end a little bit early.
Who knew being annoyed could be so entertaining! :)
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