I tend to be reluctant running on treadmills when there is another person using the adjacent treadmill. This is an extension of the male urinal ettiquete, where every time you enter a public bathroom with more than 2 people in it one dude will be at the farthest urinal and one at the closest one. The explanation is obviously the (heterosexual) man code that forces you to maximize penile distance from other men at all costs.
Today was sprints day and I promised myself I wouldn’t find an excuse to skip my run, so I awkwardly got on the only open treadmill next to the old man pacing leisurely at around 6.5 mph. 50 would be cutting it young, and 60 a bit impolite, so I’ll go for 55 as his age. There was something weird about the way he was dressed, but I didn’t want to stare so I did not notice.
Soon, I discover that the ~55 year old man was totally schooling me on the treadmill. Granted, I wasn’t jogging my 200s, but the guy was there already when I was stretching and lifting, so he already had at least 20 minutes. After 5 200’s, I was ready to die (senior belly), and the old man sped up. I guessed he was starting speed intervals.
If this were a competition, I would have been served like the young unathletic fool I was. When I surrendered after a few more laps, I saw why I thought earlier that he was dressed strangely – the man was wearing (very colorful) weights. Two on his forearms, two on his ankles. Altogether, they added about 20 pounds to his extremeties.
I left to get water and use the bathroom, and when I swung back the only thing I could hear was the machine still creaking “leisurely.” I’m suddenly not looking forward to hitting 55 quite as much as I used to.