A few days ago at the gym, as I walked toward the bank of treadmills, I noticed a guy giving an elliptical machine the workout of its life. I mean he was going totally ape-shit crazy. Not only had he placed a large towel underneath the pedals to catch his sweat, as it was LITERALLY pouring off his body, but the towel had become saturated and the excess sweat had begun to trail outward from the towel, creating a small stream, and had also gathered around the perimeter of the machine. Every whoosh sent more droplets flying, each one making a tiny plink in the puddle below. He had, in a sense, created his own personal sweat storm.

Halfway through my routine, I noticed he had finished, and was wiping up his mess.  I felt relieved that at least he wasn’t one of those that leaves their sticky sweat stains all over the machines, yet still pitied the next person who would unknowingly hop on.

Minutes later I finished my run and noticed he’d left set of wet shoe prints from the elliptical to the Stair Climber.