"what race are you training for?"
and then, when she frowned like "are you really gonna make me take my headphones off for this?" i wouldn't have stood there waiting for a response.
and then, when she said "the half" i wouldn't have asked her to repeat herself so that i could say "you're going pretty fast" so that she had to explain that hal higdon called for a 5k race that she couldn't do this weekend because she was laid up with something called "running apathy" and "sloshy-jimmy-john's-breadsticks gut" and that the shame flashes from friday night were popping like the fourth of july so she had to stay home and out of direct sunlight, and that, no, she isn't really going that fast.
and then i totally wouldn't have popped my head around to her side of the treadmill to study the dashboard and see how fast she was going.
boundaries, buddy. what's next, a stool sample?