I Almost Killed Someone

Like the title says, I almost killed someone, but first, a little background ... The local gym installed a couple of Skillmills. If you don’t know what it is, it’ll fuck you up if you’re not in somewhat decent shape. And because the inside of my knee looks like (I imagine) Stormy Daniels’ pussy after a weekend touring on the Bang Bus, I just can’t take the high impact of a good run like I used to. So this machine is perfect for me: you set its resistance and move out. I like it because there’s no motor, so your gait is more natural, but it’s still a great workout.

I’ve spent at least fifteen minutes on this machine, five or six days a week, for the last six months or so. Nowadays, 80% of the time, it’s at 80% resistance and I jam it up to 100% at intervals. At that point, it feels like you’re pushing a massive rubber boot through mud, only wetter. I can do this for an hour or so - two on a good day. And when some asshole decides to step up on the one next to me, he might not know it, but my output is always going to be greater than whatever I see on his display.

Well yestertoday, some dude I’d never seen on it figures he’d take a stab. Or rather, he was already a few minutes in before I jumped on mine. I get on and see he’s running 60%. Fine, I’ll start there and figure out what I’m working with. Only I do it at a higher wattage output, better pace &etc. Dude sees this and immediately ups his pace. Fine, fine - after a minute I’m up to 80% and just getting settled in. He does the same: ups his resistance and matches my shit. No problemo, I can do it too, but backwards. I glance over at this dude with a smile while pushing in reverse and I can see he’s all business, doesn’t acknowledge me or anything.

Right, time to fuck-start this dude’s day.

We’re about eight minutes into this and I turn it up to 100% resistance and start pushing (going forwards, of course). Usually I can stand this for a minute or two, and then have to let up a bit. You’re cranked over, basically like you’re pushing a heavy ass sleigh. What I know, however, is that, for some reason - the numbers on my machine are always a little higher than on the other one. Especially at the higher resistance settings. So this poor bastard has to work more than me to get on my level. That’s Italian calibration for you.

Now, I know you’re thinking; I’m using this machine because of the higher numbers to puff my ego. Well, fuck you - the resistance on this machine is more consistent. And my right knee’s interior is Chinese quality, right after the Second World War - so I need that predictability. Plus, he chose the other one anyway.

Now, I can see this dude fading after maybe 30 seconds at max power, so I relent a bit, as does he. I figure I’ll give him two minutes before the next ass kicking. Back to 80% I go, only output is 400 Watts, almost what we were doing at 100%. Dude keeps up okay, but I think he’s a bit bothered, I can hear his feet slamming down a bit harder.

We do this shit for maybe two or three intervals, just so I’m clear at the game he’s playing. And then I’m just getting into my groove. Runner’s high and all that shit. I go 100% again just to drive his dick into the ground. But he doesn’t even try, in fact, it seems like he’s fading. I’m not looking at him or anything, but I noticed his feet kind’a move back on the walking surface, and he’s hunched over a bit. “Heh’, I think to myself, ‘I win, again.” But I’m gonna put another nail into that coffin and keep it up, just to drive the point home that I’m unfuckwithable on this machine.

And then the poor guy just drops.

I go over and the dude’s halfway conscious with a sickly look on his face. I yell for staff to come over and the chick working nearby had seen the guy go down and brought over a doctor she knew that’s there in the morning. We get him out from between the machines and doc finds he’s got a pulse, he’s breathing &etc. Another doc along with an NPA came over and they keep an eye on him while he comes around, prop him up against the wall and just keep talking to him.

The ambulance got there pretty quick and no one seemed too worried about the guy’s condition, which, was the weirdest part. The dude’s heart just attacked and tried to kill him, and it’s almost like they’re all hanging out. So, I was late to work as I was asked to write out a witness report for insurance purposes or some shit. This morning, I asked the staff to see if they anything about his situation. So far as they know, he’s going to be okay, so I can write about this without putting a kill mark on my jet.

If you have a skillmill at your local meat shop, and your knee is worse than Bernie Sanders’ concept of economics, it’ll do you some good. It’s made my resting heart rate calmer than that of a Hindu cow and, if you have the right attitude and stamina, it might turn you into a killer.

 

I'll bet you can't pull that shit on Broome

 

Lol!!! Good chit right there!!

 

Puffing your ego on a chick machine. Right on.

Any pics of the chick that works there???

 

Get your ass up to Wolverine on the weekend of 28 September and you’ll see firsthand what it did to my ego, whore.

 

Congratulations, you won the track day.

For real though: SkillMills will kill a fatty or two.

 

Great, now we know what Broome is doing for his next stay at home.

 

Two references about a broom? What am I missing?

 

That looks awesome and I checked on price for my home gym but at $9.5k I'll pass.

 

You must must be new here.

 

I dub you Elizabeth Broome the II.

 

Plarp, meet Broome.

 

Treadmill Wars...... yawn.

 

Yeah but that would run on a rainy day at Silverstone...



And honestly, from the thread title, I thought it was a MH post....

 

What's next? Are you going to go to Curves and pick on all the fat ladies?

 

Cheater.

 

I used a skillmill and wrecked some dude’s holiday weekend, not an eliptipussy wherein my quarry walked away.

 

Damn, I even posted in that thread; something about elipticals and pussies. I still stand by that statement.