I wish I had an exciting, clever story to tell how Supermodel and I conquered the Competitive Couple.
Something like...
Tuesday 5:00 a.m. I pick up Supermodel at her house. She gets in the car, pulls down the mirror and applies red lipstick. We drive in silence. Knowing what must be done, words aren't necessary.
5:02 a.m. Our hair slicked back in tight ponytails, wearing push-up bras under our clingy, black with cutouts in all the right places, intimidating workout clothes - my ink actually revealed for the community to SEE - we enter the gym.
We quickly scan the cardio machines. No sign of the Competitive Couple and there are two ellipticals available. Seconds later, the door opens behind us and they enter. As our eyes meet, panic consumes them. His nostrils flare, he's ready for the race. She looks nervous, and wishes this would all go away.
They give us their best fake smiles. Supermodel and I look at each other and nod. The Competitive Couple fast-walk to the "cubbies" where keys and jackets are housed. They both have short legs so their fast-walk made them look very silly, and not cool at all. Supermodel and I strategically left our jackets in the car. But it didn't matter. The ellipticals were ours.
Supermodel has legs for miles. In two, long, gorgeous strides, she was on an elliptical with her equally, long, gorgeous arm reaching for the one beside hers - staking claim for me. I have short legs too - but it doesn't matter - I have Supermodel. Strut, strut, hop, hop - I was on the elliptical. I looked cool and calm though, not silly.
The Competitive Couple walked by and again, gave us their best fake smiles as they climbed on the exercise bikes with the BIG, uncomfortable seats that make your hips roll awkwardly from side to side as you peddle. Not cool.
5:03 a.m. Supermodel and I nod at each other, satisfied... and begin our workout. Mission. Accomplished. WE ARE the Competitive Couple now.
Reality...
Tuesday 5:00 a.m. I pull in Supermodel's driveway. Hmm. No lights in the kitchen window. I call her cell phone. She answers groggily, "I'm out. Rough night."
5:02 a.m. I arrive at the gym, no sign of the Competitive Couple. Three elliptical are free. I hop on one and start my workout.
5:10 a.m. Competitive Couple arrives. We all fake smile - real hard. They put their things away and leisurely walk to the remaining two ellipticals.
That's it. Fake smiles were as nasty as it got. Sorry.
NOTE: My favorite fake smiler of all time is French Stewart as Harry Solomon on "3rd Rock from The Sun". Kristen Johnston as Sally Solomon is a close second. I squinted and looked pained in my fake smile - just like Harry.