That’s one small step for man. That’s another small step for man. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And-
That was when I was kicked out of the fitness center.
Apparently, the other “guests” were finding it hard to concentrate on their own cardio workouts while I gave an oral play-by-play of every single step I was taking on the Stairmaster. So sue me, right?
When did a little verbal self-motivation become so uncouth? Why is it perfectly acceptable for that one bodybuilder guy, who looks like a hammerhead shark, to grunt at the top of his lungs whilst he hang cleans the water fountain, but narrating your own simulated journey to the top of the Empire State building is not? This is madness!
No, it’s worse than madness. It’s ignorance.
I bet most people think the Stairmaster is for wimps. I bet they think that climbing a bunch of fake stairs is nowhere near as difficult as, say, the elliptical (the most useless, over-promising piece of cardio equipment ever conceived).
What if I told you that people are wrong? What if I told you that the Stairmaster is in fact incredibly challenging, makes you sweat like crazy and gets your heart rate going faster than seeing your secret crush in gym class?
Well, it is. And I just so happen to be a Stairmaster Level 99 – the highest level possible.
So suck it, Ray O’Brien (named changed to protect the jerks), Regional Sales Manager of the fitness center I no longer belong to. You just got Nailsbails’d’s’ed’s (sp?)!