Start on the treadmill.

You'd rather work up to something like a class or sports match with strangers, and lifting weights without really knowing what you're doing sounds like a good way to hurt or make an idiot out of yourself. Running, though, is pretty easy to understand, and with that in mind, you decide to hop on one of the treadmills. Starting at a mild speed, the machine set to pick up the pace slowly as you go, you get about running. You wonder if maybe you should have brought some headphones; there's not much around to keep your mind occupied. Well, there are a row of TV's placed above the machines, but with only upsetting news channels or uninteresting daytime programming, they aren't really helping. Or are you supposed to get into the running itself? You briefly wonder if perhaps you should have asked someone about this before jumping right into this.

There are other things to keep your eyes on, however, though you do your best to avoid it, considering the two women on the machines right ahead of you. The taller one on the left is on a treadmill, like you, and she seems to come here often considering how toned her legs are, totally exposed in a pair of small running shorts. On the right, is a shorter but wider woman on one of the stair machines, and her yoga pants might be just a tad too small; every time she shifts from one leg to the other, the fabric thins enough to show the thong she's wearing beneath it.

Maybe it's your inexperience, maybe it's some sort of karma for your ogling, maybe it's the fact that you've let yourself get distracted while your treadmill is set to gradually increase in speed, but something happens, suddenly, that you very much come to wish hadn't.