The worst news is that I didn't get a picture. The best news is that I am going to do my very best to "paint the picture" in your brain of what I witnessed at the gym this past week. Ready.
Go.
It is 7:07 on a Wednesday morning.
I have found "my" treadmill at the gym and have begun my run...am about 3/4 of a mile in.
When out of nowhere...a woman appears.
Wearing purple.
ALL purple.
Purple in layers...tank top, shirt, cardigan, stretchy pants, socks, etc. (NOT typical gym clothes).
She walks towards me and I know she's going to choose the treadmill next to me.
(I am a magnet for this kind of thing...to be explained next post).
Madame Purple is a very, very large woman both in height (6 ft?) and girth.
(I am only saying that because you need the picture.
I am not mocking and would never as I am well-acquainted with obesity.)
Her warm-up is benign enough...typical.
Then in go her (purple) earphones.
And the madness begins.
She puts her treadmill at an incline of about a bazillion.
Then turns around and is walking backward...up the steep incline.
I have seen incline. I have seen backwards. I don't typically see backward incline.
I especially don't see PURPLE backward incline.
So while I'm marveling at just this...
I catch out of the corner of my eye...some kind of hand motions...
Sign language.
Of course.
I look to see if she happens to have a friend who is deaf on a treadmill that would be facing her, as she is still walking backwards.
Nope.
Signing to herself.
Of course.
Purple backward incline with Sign.
My genius kicks in and I think: "Wait, she's not deaf or she wouldn't have headphones...this is just an extra talent"
I then wonder how "subtle" my staring has been to this point.
I decide, on a scale of 1-10, NOT subtle. Sorry lady. You chose my row.
I do my best to lose myself in the catchy lyrics my beautiful iPod sings to me.
I am running, I am strong. I am not distrac....
Ms. Purple has turned around.
Lowered the treadmill incline from a bazillion to zero.
Her hands are still moving.
But it is not sign language.
I happen to notice she's walking at a 24:19 min/mile pace.
It is then than I notice that her hands/arms and torso are dancing at an impressive 6:14. At least.
Of course.
Mama Purple got moves.
She is a dancin' MA-SHEEN!
I briefly (but quite seriously) consider stating the previous 2 sentences out loud. To her.
I decide against it.
I attempt to not look.
I feel angry that I'm losing the "I will NOT look" battle.
Mama Madame Purple is winning.
I decided I am "allowed" to look once every 2 minutes. With subtlety, of course.
I end up looking every 20 seconds. Or more.
I realize I am not the only Treadmillist thrown by this violet display of personal victory.
I start to wonder if I could get away with it.
We could start something, me and Mama.
Like that Josh Turner Flashmob thing.
(ps, this is not that video, but it will make you smile, starting at 2:27)
(pps-the 2nd video is proof that youtube is for everyone)
I get lost in that possibility for a few miles. A flashmob at the gym. Brilliant.
The possibilities...
But I am shaken from the depth of my future flashmob fantasies to see that...
The incline is again at bazillion.
And the cycle continues. For the rest of my entire run.
I ran an extra mile just to see if i could "out run" this behavior.
Near the end of that mile, Mama smiled and dismounted her treadmill.
As did I.
Goodbye my purple friend. Until next week?
PPPS-i really can't get enough of these. Admit it...look at the faces of the people watching...it's beautiful...I love that people watching can't help but smile and that most everyone is affected in a positive way.
