I was scared I'd never go again. Of course, I never WANT to go again, but well, I'm resigned by now that I ought to go regularly... There was only one dead treadmill, to my amazement, but one TV is still kaput. I was warming up by the door to a storage room off the pool, and an increbibly weird smell was coming out. Have convinced myself I've breathed in Legionnaires' cooties. I made good use of my nifty new workout gloves; no more sweatyslidey hands for me! Oh. Ronnie Barker's dead. This is no good.