I hop onto the treadmill, headphones blaring some over-played, high-energy, slightly offensive rap song, water bottle near by, ready to go.  I hit the speed control arrows, spinning that belt a little faster.  I am about to OWN this workout.  Oh yeah.  Get pumped up.
And then, it happens.  The end of the world.
Out of the corner of my eye I notice the lady biking to her happy heart’s content on the stationary bike directly kitty-corner from me.  She’s probably 40-something, has either a frizzed out perm or an unfortunate natural “texture” thing going on, and is a good 50 lbs overweight*, and she’s wearing the exact same style exercise pants as I am.  Remember how I mentioned end of the world?  It happened right then.

*sidenote*  [I almost feel bad pointing out the overweight part, seeing as she’s at the gym trying to work on that very thing which is GREAT, but, well, my description of my observation would be amiss if I did not point that out.  If you are overweight, please come to my gym, I promise I won’t judge you.  I’ll just write about you if you do something that, ahem, inspires me, like wearing the same pants as me.]

Needless to say, “end of the world” is a slight exaggeration.  “Hand slap to my ego and vanity” is probably a little closer to home.  Probably.  Anyway, I finished my workout, crisis overcome.

In other news, do you ever have one of those days where half of everything you drink seems to miss your mouth…?