Moldy carpet stretched endlessly in every direction, never changing in color or pattern. The fibers came up only to your waist and the journey so far had felt like one of those Vietnam documentaries. Ever so often you would splay out below the fibers as monstrous footsteps gave way to even scarier shoes attached to even scarier humans of immeasurable proportions. You lay and pray, hoping that despite all odds, these colossal feel doing obliterate you beneath them. So far your prayers have remained answered and each impact of a gym shoe has just barely missed your frame. You army crawl onward, ignoring the accumulation of rug burn and sweat on your brow. After some peace you stand back up and remarkably, you have reached a crossroads between the main weight lifting area, the basketball court, and the central stair case. Before any further observation, you spot a mother and daughter walking swiftly past the front desk towards the stairs and towards you! The daughter looks no older than 10 and is wearing some martial arts gi and sneakers while her equally blonde mother trails behind carrying a plethora of bags and what looks like tennis gear. They were clearly late for something and much too preoccupied to notice your small presence. In a split second maneuver, you decide you best option is to...