Gym.

I love to go to the gym. I love people watching. Exercising is good too.

The first thing I do is get on the treadmill. I am OH so far from running a marathon but I manage to burn a few calories, witness something great, smell something foul and nearly fall to my death at least two and half times. Once because I tried to change my music on my MP3 player and for some reason can't run straight without looking straight, so I stepped on the none-moving part of the 'mill' and tripped and wobbled oddly like a bobble head trying to stop myself. (Stupid law of Inertia!) My foot stopped but the rest of my body was still in motion. Second, I didn't learn my lesson the first time. Second and half, I tried to change songs but then my battery died. Blessing in disguise. They always say third time is a charm, I was bound fall.

The "something foul" was the big guy in front of me on the elliptical machine. It wasn't B.O... I don't mind B.O... well, when at the gym. And I know that passing of the gas is completely natural but COME ON! THERE ARE PEOPLE BEHIND YOU... SIR! (my dad always said that I was mean but had manners... haha) I didn't really say it to him but I was sure as heck thinkin' it! I tried to just run faster to get away from the smell but I was stationary. "I'm on a treadmill... crap."

The 'something great' was a man. I am guessing about 70+ years old. He was weight lifting but not just red faced, vain popping and heavy breathing lifting like normal people do, he wasn't red at all, maybe even a little yellow. When he breathed it wasn't hard but short puffs. "34... pqu... pqu... pqu.... 35...pqu...pqu...pqu..." It sounded like a little boy playing with toy guns and making the shooting sounds with his mouth. It was great! I couldn't stop laughing... on the inside of course, I didn't want to get jumped. Haven't you seen Gran Torino? Old guys can kick major butt! His gray, slightly yellow wrinkled face and puckered pale lips creating the most strange noise, made my day.

As for the few pounds... those are burned by, no not running, but holding myself up on the handles of the treadmill. It's moving alright, but I am too lazy to actually run. I don't want to slow it down and walk because I want people to see my speed. That's when I realize they won't be looking at my speed... alright I guess I'll run. SMACK! Third time is a charm.