Nice guys finish...?
A few days a week my gym routine consists of a 2 mile run, followed by a 1 mile walk. Since I absolutely hate running, this is considered to be a great accomplishment for me and do everything I can to complete the full 3 miles each morning. Today though, I was forced to stop short, this is thanks to the rather smelly fella who began walking on the treadmill next to me.
If this were normal, run-of-the-mill B.O., I may have been able to persevere, but I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say it smelled as if this guy cooked a roast beef dinner with peas and onions in his armpits for a whole day, then came to the gym today like... “ding, it’s ready!”.
After the first mile the smell hit me and my stride was broken, my legs were weakened. It was a struggle, but I still managed to finish my second mile. After which the smell was just too much to handle and I literally ran out of the gym.
I suppose I could've changed treadmills or found some other way to continue my workout, but there was a part of me that didn’t want to be blatant or in any way make the guy feel bad. Who knows, maybe it’s some sort of biological thing he can’t help, like a rare stewed beef disease or something.
Whatever the case, this seems to be a common thread for me, sometimes putting the feelings or self-esteem of others ahead of my personal comfort, maybe it’s a good thing and I’m a better person for it, or maybe I’m just too nice and destined to finish last, or in this case not finish at all. One thing's for certain though, I got some pretty sweet blogger's revenge in this post.
If this were normal, run-of-the-mill B.O., I may have been able to persevere, but I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say it smelled as if this guy cooked a roast beef dinner with peas and onions in his armpits for a whole day, then came to the gym today like... “ding, it’s ready!”.
After the first mile the smell hit me and my stride was broken, my legs were weakened. It was a struggle, but I still managed to finish my second mile. After which the smell was just too much to handle and I literally ran out of the gym.
I suppose I could've changed treadmills or found some other way to continue my workout, but there was a part of me that didn’t want to be blatant or in any way make the guy feel bad. Who knows, maybe it’s some sort of biological thing he can’t help, like a rare stewed beef disease or something.
Whatever the case, this seems to be a common thread for me, sometimes putting the feelings or self-esteem of others ahead of my personal comfort, maybe it’s a good thing and I’m a better person for it, or maybe I’m just too nice and destined to finish last, or in this case not finish at all. One thing's for certain though, I got some pretty sweet blogger's revenge in this post.
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