"My best friend's sister's boyfriend's brother's girlfriend..."

Remember the scene in Ferris Bueller's Day Off when Ben Stein's character drones, "Bueller? Bueller?" during attendance and Simone answers, "Um, he's sick..." and then launches into an endless list of connections who relayed that Ferris threw up at 31 Flavors last night? I was a on a treadmill at the gym tonight next to that girl.

Not her exactly, but it was her incessant voice, yakking yakking non-stop about inane, involved details of events that were mundane and completely uninteresting. She and her incredibly patient and/or comatose friend were on elliptical machines behind me, and she provided a constant, rapid-fire, overly intoned soundtrack to my run.

"I totally think I should do some kind of race before my wedding day. Don't you think I should totally do that?! I mean, I totally should."

[ignore, ignore, ignore]

"And then she went to her boss and was like, ''ok, like here's the deal. I, like, really really need to know, like...'"

[not listening! not listening!]

"Oh my god! His classroom was, like, RIGHT NEXT TO MINE!"

[Oh, for the love of Job...]

I was only running a quick 3 miles to shake out the cobwebs from the Sunday run, but I hit STOP on the treadmill at 2.27 miles. I couldn't take it! The relentlessness of that high-pitched voice. I went downstairs to the machines on the floor and finished the last 3/4 mile on different treadmill in harmony.

As I was pounding out those last crummy tenths of a mile, I realized that I let go of an opportunity to practice endurance, determination, the ability to work through pain. I should have approached that tiny little run as if it were miles 22-25 of the marathon: push everything out of your mind and keep going.

And as I was a finishing the run and feeling a little bummed about letting the gabbermouth girl get to me, I heard it again. That voice. Walking by me toward the exit, her friend still listening silently, politely nodding.

"And then he was all... and then I was like..."

And I let it go. Some miles have to be punishing, but not every one of them needs to be.