Common Scents Cardio

There are certain things that annoy me about going to the gym, and 99.9 percent of those things are actually people.

gymlook

And this is probably the other .1 percent.

But seeing as I do not own the gym or live in a serene bubble of immunity from stupidity, I put on my big girl yoga pants and sports bra—not hard, considering I’m probably wearing them anyway—and deal with them. However, there are general annoyances and then there are things that just don’t need to happen.

I bring this up because of one particular instance in the cardio room the other day in which I was on the stationary bike positioned in front of the treadmills. Seeing as I was the only one in there, I put on a HAZMAT suit to grab the TV remote to turn on something good to distract me.

Now let’s just say that there are a few members of the gym that everyone knows to be weirdos.

I don’t mean to sound harsh, but these are the people that when you see their car in the parking lot, you figure your cardio will be ducking away from their conversations about diminishing pension plans, the color of their bruised and battered toe nail or anything else they can complain about.

On this particular day in question one of those gentlemen was on the treadmill behind me, drinking coffee while strolling along. Yes, he sips coffee while walking on the treadmill.

All of the sudden a horrible stench wafted through the air. It was only the two of us in the cardio room, so I knew that this guy had farted. Now I know things can slip out from time to time, so I held my breath for a second or two and dismissed it as no big deal.

But then it happened again. And again.

There is only so much one can take, so I started glancing behind me in that subtle, “I know you just farted and I’m trying not to gag” way I hoped would prove effective despite a history of ineffectiveness.

When another odorous breeze wafted up a minute later, I took to the less-subtle but often more effective “what the hell is your problem, dude?” gesture of pulling my T-shirt up over my nose in hopes of eeking out a gasp of fresh air.

At that point the Fart Factory gave a little laugh and said, “Ha. Is that me? Sorry about that. Must be the coffee.”

Was that him? The only other person in this room? And “it must be the coffee?” Then perhaps one should refrain from sipping Starbucks while plodding along in a bubble of odorous obliviousness, good sir!

At that point I just removed my shirt from my nose, gave one glance back in my, “I’ll give a small smile now as long as you cut that shit out” way I was hoping would discourage future flatulence through the sheer intensity of my gaze.

Thankfully from that point on the oxygen supply remained flatulence free, and I wasn’t subjected to the paranoia of someone else walking in and thinking that stench was from me.

After all, I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you only break a sweat and not break wind. It’s really just common sense—and scents.

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20 responses to “Common Scents Cardio

  1. Hahaha “is that me?” WHO DOESNT KNOW WHEN THEY FART. Rude. Very rude.

  2. It concerns me that he couldn’t feel that he was farting… What is wrong with his ass? What happened there?

  3. Holy cow. That’s cray! You might have me beat on my gym story – the one where I was watching Steve Harvey give this dumb woman dating advice & after the commercial they were going to go through her twitter feed w/ all the asshole things the guy said & all the stupid things she said in response & I was so looking forward to that moment & then some guy switched the channel and he wasn’t even WATCHING that TV. I since changed gyms b/c I won’t be having that shit.

    But I just LOVE that the guy said, “Oh, was that me?” Could be anyone, really. How is he to know he’s the one stinking up the joint?

    • Oh, don’t get me started on the TV. The other day a woman walked in and muted it so she could talk on her phone while walking .2 mph on the treadmill. I was stuck where I was and couldn’t get up to change it but as soon as she hung up, I “politely” told her to turn that crap up. SO. RUDE.

  4. You still a member at WSF? I can picture this playing out, actually… although I don’t recall personally ever witnessing any egregious breaches of cell phone or crop-dusting etiquette while I was a member there.

  5. I find this stuff gross but I do appreciate when someone owns up and says “dude, sorry about that”. I makes me never want to speak to them again, but in a nice, polite way.

  6. At least he owned it… I had a flatulent gym encounter once with a young lady who was on the stair-climber next to mine. A few minutes in, something so horrifying and fierce came out of her ass that it actually startled me enough to lose my footing. It was as though she had years worth of trapped air in her body and the motorized climb to no where somehow forced it all out at once in a giant, urgent blow. I had death metal blaring in my ears nearly at full blast and I could still clearly hear what she had done, THAT’S HOW LOUD IT WAS. I could see in my peripheral the wide-eyed horror spread over her face when she had realized what she had done, which switched to a sudden calm as she came up with a solution to her embarrassing quandary. SHE FORGED A DISGUSTED LOOK ON HER FACE AND CAST IT AT ME LIKE I DID IT.
    I know for a fact I didn’t do it, as I have long since disabled my fart-function years ago as a way to thwart situations such as this one (and also to further secure my boyfriend’s unyielding love), but I had no way to prove it to anyone passing by that were privy to the situation… we were the only two using stair-climbers and between the two of us she was definitely the prettiest. Everyone knows pretty women don’t fart 😦

  7. Ha ha. Who the HELL drinks coffee on the tread mill? What a weirdo. And yuck.

  8. This happens to me more often than I’d like. Not at the gym, though. Usually, it’s while I’m travelling to or from work and the taxi’s windows are rolled up so the car’s AC can save us from the unrelenting tropical sun.

    Then someone lets it rip… again… & again… & again… The drivers never roll the windows down (either because they don’t want to offend the guilty party or because they ARE the guilty party). Either way no one ever owns up. The person responsible just mixing their odor with the recycled air.

  9. Reblogged this on Side Cramps and commented:
    I had to reblog this…it’s too funny to let it go by without sharing!!
    _ Enjoy! _

  10. Oh gosh, that reminds me of the farter on the subway on Saturday… or rather, the couple who were so offended by the farter that they dramatically got up and moved as if they were somehow going to outrun the fart.

    When the man who dealt it owned up to it and apologized, the man of the couple said, “It’s fine,” in a tone that was so incredibly opposite of fine (aka the aggro I’m overreacting because I’m an macho jerk tone) that I wish I’d had gall to say to him, “What? Hasn’t anybody give you a dutch oven before, asshole?”

  11. hehehehe! i definitely would do what you did!

  12. I’d have probably ended up laughing out loud.

  13. I was laughing so hard I was crying. You were awfully gracious and polite. I would have been projectile vomiting all over the place. It’s like out of a horror movie!

  14. So strange! My gym doesn’t have weirdos that talk and fart, but we sure got the guys that constantly stare and judge incessantly.

    • I’m lucky we don’t have any of that. It’s generally a good group of people. Just weirdos. Not pervs 😉

      • I would take the weirdos over pervs any day. Some people don’t realize that THEY are the sole reason that people don’t enjoy the gym. No one wants to be judged right in the door, especially if the gym is foreign to you, or if you’re out of shape and embarrassed of your image. Those people really suppress the want to go out and get in shape. LAMES.

  15. My mother in law used to drink cardio on the elliptical. I say used to because she stopped using the elliptical because it interfered with her coffee.

    I only ever let one slip if I’m in a huge group so I can deflect guilt. Even then though, it’s a last resort. 🙂

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