One of the chief personal annoyances of mine is the regularity at which I am annoyed. Let’s move this to the local YMCA, an amazing facility which I decided to join because it had two indoor tracks.

The indoor tracks come with directions of use. They aren’t complicated by any means. Signs spell out the common-sense rules, such as not stopping and leaning over the rail to look at the courts below, or not walking side-by-side during busy times. Signs also dictate the direction to take on the tracks depending upon the day of the week. Due to how they are laid out, a person could alternate between tracks in a figure-eight fashion, but only if everyone is going in the correct direction. The tracks also come with lanes, the newer track having three: walking, passing, and running.

The signs are many, are large, and are clearly obvious, trumped only in clarity by the ubiquitous red “stop” sign.

I just want to get on the track and run my little bit, finish off with some speed-walking and some cool down, and move on to the weight room. That’s it. Yet, I’ll be darned if I don’t have to deal with side-by-side strolling women yammering on their cell phone going in the wrong direction stopping periodically on the track almost every time I attempt to achieve this simple goal. I can’t see why anyone would waste the money for a membership if they are going to barely walk and do it in a manner of poor posture while talking on their cell phone. It’s good to get out and move, but a leisurely stroll with a slouched back and dragging arms probably isn’t exactly what they mean when they tell us that walking is a great way to exercise. It’s a step up from a standstill, to be sure, but not much.

Today’s experience took the cake, however, with two heavy-set men waddling around the track, one eating from a snack-sized bag of Cheetos while doing so. The sum-zero quality of the moment about drove me insane.

The benefit to this is that, as my annoyance increases, so does my speed while running.

Anger is a lovely energy source.