Nobody wants to be "that guy." You know the guy I mean. I'm not talking about the friendly, helpful guy who encourages the newbie. I'm talking about that guy in the transition area or the gym who has all the answers, who knows that his aero helmet will save him .72 seconds per kilometer and your transition area would be 21.7% more efficient if arranged thusly, and optimal stretching is accomplished in only one fashion.
I don't want to be that guy, offering free advice on proper form to all the people in the gym. Much of my life can be explained as an ongoing effort not to be that guy. In fact, I think part of my quiet nature as a child came from observing many examples of very outgoing people who were actually "that guy" and did not know it. Thus, I became a reader instead of a talker. My policy: "Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt."* Stated differently, "I have often regretted my speech, never my silence."**
Thankfuly, my industrial strength speech filter was in place at the gym today or else one might have heard . . .
"Um, sir. The exercise is called a crunch, not a jerk, snap, rupture, fit, spasm, or seizure. SLOWLY. And BREATHE for the love of God. This is not a race against the clock. At least don't rip your head from your shoulders or rupture a disc until after I leave."
"Excuse me sir. Do you hear that sound? The one that sounds like an M1 going off every time your foot slams down on the treadmill? STOP IT! Nobody else in the gym is running that way, and you're going to hurt yourself. It hurts me to watch."
"Stop, stop, STOP! You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides you're doing it WRONG. You're going to rupture your rotator cuff if you keep swinging the the dumbells around like that."
"SIR! PLEASE! That horrible cracking and popping sound when you slam down into a deep knee bend--that's just WRONG."
"Um, if you can read the paper and watch television on the recumbant bicycle without breathing hard, there really is no appreciable training benefit over driving your couch. Just thought you ought to know."
I was not that guy. I held my tongue, as I'm sure you do. Buuuuuuuuuut, if you didn't, what might you say?
**Publius Syrus, Maxim 1070