El Gimnasio – The Gymnasium

I like to work out and often being my morning with a trip to the gymnasium in order to stretch out my old bones, lift some weights and log a few aerobic miles on a stationary bike or elliptical machine. In El Paso, I have a membership to the Wellness Center, and enjoy not only working out for the health benefits that are produced (lower heart rate, stronger muscles, increased aerobic capacity), but also for the reduction of stress that comes as a result as well. I find if I beat myself up a bit early in the day, I am more likely to be able to enjoy the ups and downs of the workday as well as the interactions with others.

I promised myself that I would continue that rhythm wile in Chile, as I wanted to be fit and ready, flexible in boy and spirit, able to endure and overcome. My physical fitness, I believe, is a microcosm of my mental fitness, and being in god shape translates for me into greater productivity and enjoyment in work. In my new apartment building, there is a small gym located on the first floor, to which I travel, along with Sarah, very early in the morning (muy temprano por la mañana) and cut on the lights and get to work. I stretch out my old bones, lift some weights and log a few aerobic miles on a stationary bike or elliptical machine.

Yet, here in Santiago, the physical exercise in the gymnasium also becomes a metaphor for the type of effort that is needed both mentally and physically throughout the day. As a non-native Spanish speaker and a foreigner (extranjero) in Chile, my exercise begins in the morning and continues all day. I often come home and collapse in my apartment, a seemingly spent human specimen who is giving an effort, but continually needing to push forward and keep going.

When I was nineteen years old (I am now forty-five), I trained for a marathon with my brother Gordon, and we logged hundreds of miles on the road, on the track, up hills and around streams. We trained to push ourselves to a great distance, to accomplish a feat that required sustained effort and a seemingly compulsive commitment in order to reach an elevated goal. Along the way, in the Marathon race itself, around mile 20 or so, you hit a wall (un pared) that you have to push through, not go around or climb over, but push through in order to reach the other side so that you can make it to the finish line. While I haven’t reached the wall yet, I can see it on the horizon, and each day as I train in the gym, I reflect on the need to give it my best each and every day, not only here in Santiago, but wherever I may be.