I go to the gym because I do not have the luxury of buying myself a treadmill. All I ask is to listen to my iPod and walk the hill program at my steady pace, not because I enjoy it, but because I enjoy salt 'n vinegar chips very much. When you come prancing over next to me, BLAST up the floor fan so that it blows my business six ways of Sunday, and happily try to strike up conversation I want to slap you. I realize I mainly pretend to not be able to hear you, but that does not mean you should try to speak any louder or tap me on the shoulder.
Perhaps you and the STEP instructor who likes to come around and recruit for her class should get together, you seem like a perfect match.