I don't talk to other people at my gym. I'm not a "social" exercizer. Unless I'm there with Sharon, I pretty much don't speak two words the whole time I'm working out.
Today, though, the woman on the treadmill next to mine tapped my arm after I'd finished my first running interval (I hate running - so why the hell am I doing it twice a week now???)
I'm huffing and puffing and not in the mood to carry on a conversation with a complete (and sweaty) stranger while I was equally sweaty. But I was raised to be polite.
Complete Stranger: Your heartrate monitor is taking over my machine.
Complete Stranger: (pointing to display on HER treadmill) See.
Sure enough, the heartrate displayed on her treadmill was my own 167 (and dropping) which would have made no sense at all for a woman walking a gentle 3.3 mph unless she was completely out of shape. And she didn't look completely out of shape.
I'd never seen that happen before.
EEE: I'm sorry! (This is not an apology, of course, since I've done nothing to apologize for - it's an expression of sympathy)
Complete Stranger: (laughing) No worries! Yours must just have a stronger signal than mine.
EEE: Well... You can have the heartrate, but keep your hands off my calorie-count!