Scott and I have finally given ourselves no excuse to lay around and get fat and lazy. We joined the YMCA last weekend, and have already gotten into the habit of going there after work. It's nice. It's a bustling place full of friendly people, the equipment is top-rate, and the pool is amazing (with a water slide and fountains, a hot tub and a LAZY RIVER!).
Already, though, I am amassing funny stories about my experiences there.
Wednesday evening we arrived, changed clothes and did a couple of laps around the track to warm up. This is the time that I scope out the ellipticals and treadmills that have televisions attached to them, and when one is vacated, I immediately abandon the track and Scott to head for mindless tv-watching. It makes the whole ordeal go a lot faster. Anyway, I hopped onto a machine and got going. The girl next to me was pumping away on her machine when her cell phone, which is sitting in the cup-holder of her display unit, starts to ring. She answers it. And keeps running. She says "hello? No, I'm at the gym working out. Mmmhm. No, that's ok, go ahead!" and proceeds to spend the next 15 minutes of her workout (and mine) jabbering away on her phone. I couldn't believe it. Frankly, if I were the person on the other end I would have been all "yo, that's ok - you finish your workout and call me back because I wouldn't want to be the reason you drive the woman next to you to murder."