I have used this blog several times in the past to vent about various instances of poor behavior at the gym. The more I perform my obversational research, the more I realize that the local YMCA is a microcosm of interpersonal relationships that can be amplified to generate larger sociological conclusions (Hey … I didn’t go to a science and tech magnet high school and write an honors thesis in college for nothing. I can string big words together).

To recap, here are the points I have made in previous posts:

1.Middle-aged men lying down RIGHT next to me on a mat and thrusting their hips upwards repeatedly while smiling at me — BAD

2. Singing along loudly and poorly to every video that comes on CMT all along oblivious to your volume due to your use of headphones — BAD

3. Talking on your cell phone about who is handling carpool tomorrow (or any other topic for that matter) while I am trying to focus on burning calories three feet from you — BAD

Now, before I share the newest frustration I have with my fellow sweaters at the gym, I do have to pass along a happy tidbit. While doing weights, the sweet harmonies of The Jets came floating from the gym speakers. No matter what had irritated me earlier in my workout session, my heart was lightened by singing along (in my head) to “Crush on You”. Take me back to middle school … “How did you know, ’cause I never told? But, you found out. I got a crush on you!” That was one talented group of siblings that could give the Osmonds and Jacksons a run for their money anytime.

Anyway, my newest gym issue is a particularly interesting reflection on human nature. To accommodate the swell of those wanting to get on cardio machines to fulfill New Year’s resolutions (I’m memorizing faces and watching to see who lasts until February), the staff has limited time on such equipment to 30 minutes. Notices have been posted on each machine with a reminder about the time limit and a note to respect other members.

I have been to the Y three times since 2008 began, and each time more than half of the people on the cardio machines stayed on for more than 30 minutes (I have excellent peripheral vision to scan all machines in my row … also comes in handy to see what the woman next to me enters as her weight). I saw one woman remove the sign from her view when her time was about to expire, I guess so she could claim ignorance later. Someone else got to her 30 minutes, looked around and then started over again. Others just chug along for up to an hour without any attempts to cover their selfishness. And, as more people ignore the rules, others decide they should not have to abide either.

Perhaps this is a stretch (stretch … the gym … oh, that’s good), but I think people’s lack of consideration for the other gym members who are waiting to exercise is indicative of the “me” attitude that is becoming more prevalent everywhere. I have had to shorten my normal run, but I understand the reasons behind the Y making such restrictions. I’m sure others would say, “I paid for my membership here. I’m entitled to stay on this elliptical machine as long as I like!” Ah, entitlement. Along with “disrespecting” and “like” (when used as every other word in a sentence), “entitlement” and its various forms is one of my least favorite words in the English language. For those interested, my favorite word is “usurp”.

Selfish behavior gets me like nothing else. I can feel my temperature rise and my fists clench when I see my fellow runners show complete disregard for anyone else. Maybe I need to buy an IPod and download The Jets’ Greatest Hits to keep me calm.