Neighbor Schneibor

I was at the gym last night, putting in my 4 miles of training, rocking out to some Pit Bull and Luda. (what, we're on a first name basis). Hubs was on a treadmill nearby.

There are about 10 treadmills, one right next to the other. All but two were taken, so hubs and I hopped on.

The one to my left opened up after about 20 minutes. (I was on it for an eternity hour.)

I don't usually pay attention to my surroundings at the gym. I mean, I'm not worried about my safety in there, I guess. Plus, hubs is nearby. I don't usually look at my treadmill neighbors, even.

But last night? Last night I glanced over at the person getting on the treadmill next to me.

My immediate reaction was, "Really? You had to get on the treadmill next to my out-of-shape, runs-slower-than-molasses, red-in-the-face self? Out of allllllll the treadmills here?"

Of course she did!

I shouldn't have glanced over. But I did.

This lady was maybe 30? She had a body that said, "I work out every day!" And, she was really pretty.

She walked the first tenth of a mile and then? Ran five miles straight.

"No. Don't come near me with that!," I said in my head.

I was running at a faster speed than Ms. Perfect, so I was happy about that. Until I had to slow down or I was going to die faint.

But Ms. Perfect kept running.

The worst part? While I'm redder in the face than a bell pepper, Ms. Perfect didn't even break a sweat.

I mean, I'm sweating on my face, arms, legs. Heck, I think even my toes were sweating. (which is entirely possible, by the way. Sorry. Tmi?)

But this lady didn't sweat. If there was a drop of sweat on her? She'd probably glisten.

So, she finished the treadmill right before I did. I kept going and finished my distance in my goal time. yay!

But, I wanted to hate the lady. I really did. Like, did she have to have the perfectly placed ponytail, too? Ya know, not too high, not too low, and it swings when you run?

And she had a nice tan. In the winter.

But I realized, Ms. Perfect has probably worked hard for where she's at with running.

And worked hard for her perfect tan. And maybe ponytail?

But I've worked hard for where I'm at too. And instead of hating Ms. Perfect, I was proud to be able to say I was doing something that may give me the same results.

But I'll tell you this: I won't be so much as even glancing at my treadmill neighbors for a while.

Amen.