the unspoken protocol

there is an unspoken, but widely understood, protocol that when you go to a gym, you are trying to best the person next to you. lift more than them. run faster than them. show off your physical prowess, even if you have to hurt yourself in the process. even more so if there are desireable persons in the same room, you are flairing your feathers. you are always competing with the person next to you whether you want to or not; the gym is a social ritual of genital measurement.

i walked into the gym today knowing this with intent to smoke the shit out of the person on the adjacent treadmill.

i got stuck on the middle treadmill with a hot girl on my left and a big muscle guy on my right. i had something to prove. i could not win against the muscle guy in a bout of fisticuffs, but hell, i'll take him in a sprint down the parkway. i hear this talent is cherished by hot girls somewhere in the world where this is a serious occupation. but here, i was going to flair my feathers.

i had a cheesesteak and a snickers bar today. i was ready to rock. amazing how fast the predator has turned into the prey.

six miles per hour at 1.0 incline. i brought my 'a' game and was moving along at six point one miles per hour at 2.5 incline after warming up. yes, my friends, i went six point one. this is not a petty thing per se, because i pace myself at a sustained six one on inclines. and even then, my incline was like 250% of his.

but wait, i looked at her screen and she was rocking along at seven and half miles per hour at no incline.

oh.

then she started doing sustained sprints at nine and a half miles per hour. let me break this down for you: that's pretty close to a 6 minute mile. that's an incredible pace. that's a pace that professionals run. like professionals in a part of the world where this is a serious occupation.

oh.

well, she certainly displaced more water volume than i did today.


p.s. all of this was exaggerated for your entertainment. but i still got totally smoked by the girl.