A Gym Rant

No, not a gym rat, a gym RANT. That's what I am about to do. Picture the scene, if you will. This AM, I chose to go to the gym, because I knew that I would be at the 6th grade Greek Olympics during the day, and didn't have time to hit the treadmill at home, and since I have officially started training to hike the Grand Canyon North Rim over Memorial Day weekend with Kevin, I thought it would be a good idea to do the Stairmaster for as long as the time allowed (20 minutes-would love to sneak in longer, but there are only two Stairmasters at the gym, and I don't like to get in trouble. I also like to follow rules. You can ask Emily, who I made tell me which side of me she was planning on running during the marathon, and she stuck to it. It was the left side of me, by the way). So.....the Stairmaster is quite an intense cardio workout, so I had worked up quite a sweat, but didn't feel like I had gotten all of the cardio that I wanted, so I moved on to the elliptical machine. There are 12 at the gym, 2 downstairs, 10 upstairs. I chose the one closest to the fan, and turned the fan on, because I was sweating, and once I got going on the elliptical, I was sweating like a pig hiking out of the Grand Canyon in the middle of July. It was at this point that an older gentleman came up to me and asked me if I needed the fan on. I said "You can turn it off if you need to." Which he did. Then he chose an elliptical machine the FARTHEST (or furthest- I may get corrected here) away from the fan, and left me there to sweat so much, that I pictured an apparatus to collect the sweat, much like a rain gauge. Kevin asked me why I didn't just get off and turn the fan back on. I didn't want to break my rhythm. Where was Julie when I needed her? Gillette, I mean, not Taylor, because, even though Julie is of unusually small size, she can pack a punch. If anyone has a wittier response than "I'm sweating like a pig here, you choose" let me know. I am open to suggestions.