In fact, why don't you just F*#K OFF!
So there I was, at the gym, sitting there, on a piece of gym equipment, in between sets, taking a short break, a moment's rest, a slight breather, and along comes this guy, looking all gym-y, wearing his gym clothes, with his gym attitude, and he walks right up to me, in his gym shorts, and he's all up in my grill, while I'm sitting there, and he's all, "Can I work in?"
Excuse me?
No. You can't work in. That would be impossible. Because I'm here. Occupying, you might say. I'm occupying this space. It's mine. I'm using it. The pause in action that you see? That's all part of the plan. All part of my strategery. I work. Then stop. I work. Then stop. This is how I regain my energy to continue working. It is a strategy that works, so to speak.
There is no 'working in' here. Only working out! Your working in would necessitate my moving, getting up, walking away, robbing me of precious moments of Zen-like focus, disturbing my rhythm, breaking my concentration, destroying my ongoing (and clearly) chill vibe. I don't want to get up. I don't want to move. I don't want to walk away. That would mean I would have to come back. That's a lot of coming and going. I didn't come here for all that.
Let me propose a different course of action for you. You wait. You wait right over there. Right where you are. Don't move a muscle. Don't say a word. Just wait there, patiently, until the time comes when I've finished my work-rest-work-rest-work-rest cycle. You'll know the time has come when you see me get up and, in a purposeful manner, leave the area, without returning. That's when you should pounce. Then, the time will be right. At that moment I would like nothing better than for you to step into the area which I have vacated and commence using it yourself. Because I will be done. And....
What?
No. I don't want a spot. I don't want you hovering over me. I don't want you kneeling behind me. I don't want you mirroring my own motions, only inches away from me, with an intense look on your face, your hands hovering just off the bar, ready to grab it at the slightest hint of hesitation on my part. I don't know you. I don't want to feel you anywhere within my personal space. It's nothing personal. I just don't care to have your existence intruding upon my consciousness now. Or ever. I have calibrated the amount of weight on the bar specifically to obviate the need for a spotter. I have made sure not to take that one extra rep attempt that will result in disaster. I have chosen, very purposefully, to accept a slower rate of progress in my training in exchange for not having a stranger perched above me, urging me to "Push it! Push it!" It's just my way. So...
What?
No. I don't want any tips from you. I don't want to hear your analysis of my form. I don't want to hear how I could "do that a little better". I don't want to hear "one little thing that will really help me out". I don't want to hear "what I'm doing wrong on that lift". I don't want to hear anything from you. I don't care if you're a personal trainer. I'm a Personal Trainer! I don't care if you're a Crossfit coach. I don't care if you're a football coach. I don't care if you're a kung-fu, TRX, or Tae Bo coach. I don't care if you've been "doing this stuff for a lot longer than me." You may notice that I did not approach you and ask you any questions. That is because I am uninterested in your thoughts. You may indeed be a wise, learned, hardcore ninja warrior and teacher of the utmost quality. I bet that someone out there will extend a warm and sincere "thank you" of grateful appreciation to you for your unsolicited but valuable advice. But I am not that person. I am just me. A girl, who is here, at this gym, stone cold doing my thing. So leave me the F@*K alone!!!
Of course in real life I let the guy work in. But gee, I was really annoyed about it ;-)
And yes. We're going to need a montage.
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