This morning, I was running a little late to the gym. My weights partner had to leave by 9:30 because her house is for sale and there was a showing scheduled. (Fingers crossed that this is the lucky showing, girl!)
I was running late because last night our resident diva meandered down the steps and declared that she couldn't go to bed last night because her eyes "couldn't close".
Then she crawled onto the foot of our bed sometime during the night and this morning I realized that our little three year old had a good 50% of the bed on lockdown. And I didn't know she was even on the bed until I woke up.
Apparently she sleeps well in our bed because I had to wake her up at 7:45 so I could get to the gym. I hate to wake a sleeping child, but I had to do it.
I get her settled in the child care area and I run to meet my weights partner, who had already started on our sets for today. We agreed I'd just add the stuff she'd already done onto the end of my workout.
The point of the detail over sharing is that we were in a bit of a hurry to get everything done, so we were moving along at a pretty good pace. We needed one of the machines that do rows. The Y has two, one of which was out of order. The other of which was being used.
No big deal. We just moved to the next exercise on the list and came back to the row machine. Because, you know, that's what normal people do at a gym. Especially when, say, the gym isn't very busy and there are 10 machines out of 35 or more being used.
We were each doing five sets of reps - a set of 12, 10, 8, 6, and 12. This doesn't take long. Since we were alternating the sets to make them go more quickly. I had gone first and was getting ready to start my six rep set when this lady walked up and stood in front of the machine. My partner, trying to nice but truthful, said that we were going to be using the machine for a just a little bit longer. She then started to explain what we were doing (with the pyramid lifting and sets) so that the lady would see that while we weren't quite done, we weren't going to be there for another half an hour either.
But Madame McHateful interrupted her and said something to the effect that what we were doing wasn't weightlifting, it was talking. The comment came with a bonus case of prissy face.
Who peed in your latte this morning, McHateful?
I mean, yeah, we were talking to each other, but we were not wasting time and we were not standing there just chatting while not using the machine. Each set took less than 30 seconds to complete, and we were switching back and forth so there would be no down time.
There was more conversation between my partner and McHateful, but my blood was boiling too loudly for me to register what was said. That's probably a good thing.
We finished our set, cleaned off the machine, and went on to the next set. My mind, however, spent a good amount of time in an imagined conversation in passive aggressive land with McHateful.
She never did use the rowing machine that I saw. I guess we messed up her Type A rhythm. It's a shame really. That might have been the one machine that actually enabled her to break a sweat, bless her little heart.
Seriously, though? I don't get why women have to act so catty to each other. Such a waste of energy and such a shame.