The phantom jogger

Someone's jogging upstairs. Sounds like one of those running machines, right above our sitting room. Bom bom bom bom late at night. We complained to the management last week but they said the flat was empty. Same thing the following night. This had all the makings of a horror film. We complained again and this time they said that maybe someone had just moved in. Anyway, tonight it happened again so I went upstairs, knocked on the door and confronted not a ghost but a woman who spoke good English while her husband pounded the treadmill behind. They're going to try it in a different room and at a civilised time. The downside of living in a block of flats.