I think the moment has come to take the time to write about it. We have no choice but to live on that ever-fleeing instant we call present. Everything else, we call past, history, ancient, before, preceding… [even “the present” is past? --we’ll talk about that some other time]. There are some experiences in life you just don’t ever want to remember. This is not one of those. This, I’ve always known I have to write about. It was only a matter of time and that time is now.
It’s been nine years, but I will never forget how it all started. It is not every day that a single event, drastically changes your life. Life altering events happens at any age. In my case I was 37 and very much into work. 24 hours just wasn’t enough time to do all the things I knew I could accomplish in my line of work if the hours didn’t slip by so fast. I worked day and night, literally with no sleep for days, and enjoyed every minute of it. I didn’t know otherwise. Previously, while in grad school and just married, I held two jobs and attended school full time. Aced all my classes, loved both projects I had been assigned at each job, hardly slept at all, and loved it. The only unhappy camper was my wife.
At this present moment in my life, few people know about -- or so I think -- my nerdy background. As a child, adolescent, or at any other time in my life, I was never involved in any kind of sport or physical exercise. Not that I disliked sports. It attracted me, I just never participated. I had gotten used to not being part of it.
I keenly remember the time when the Olympic size pool was being built in my home town of Levittown. I was only 8. My mother had just given birth to Luis, my youngest brother, and that alone fetched me a new from of freedom never previously experienced (thank you very much, Luis). I didn’t realize it at the time but, with 2 older and 3 younger siblings, I pretty much became invisible in my house.
Together with Tiberio, a brother that’s only one year older, and a group of buddies we would hop on our bikes to journey to the site where the pool was being constructed. It was only about 3 miles away, but at the time, in Puerto Rico where everything and everyone is so close, it seemed like riding to another country. We were not used to seeing such wealth and resources extravaganza. Where did all that money could've come from? It was such a beautiful sight that we couldn’t believe our eyes. At times I could not help it but to have the morbid thought that perhaps this was not really a pool. Although the rumor was that a pool was being constructed it was possible that they were only constructing some sort of water treatment plant. After all, it was too good to be true. Even if it was a water treatment plant, we contemplated the possibility of jumping in before construction was even finished …while there was no one around to catch us, of course. And, we almost did one day, just before one of the “wiser” older boys explained that before a pool could be filled with water, it had to be filled with acid… hummmm --That changes things.
The day it finally opened, we were one of the very first to dive in. It was only $0.25 to get in and you could stay inside all day as long as you didn’t exit. Even though they were getting miserably paid, there were excellent instructors teaching the correct way to swim. That innovative form of swimming being taught even had a name: “estilo libre”. After only a few weeks, I became very good at it. I could even swim the full length of the pool.
But, and there is always a but, as soon as Pastor Rodriguez found out that the reason my brother and I were late for Sabbath Bible School [Escuela Sabática] was that we were swimming on that public pool, he hastily helped my mother understand how the Angels of God did not work on the Sabbath and therefore we were left at the mercy of Satan during all that time that we were on the pool… that it was a true miracle that we were still alive. Besides, it was a sin to swim on the Sabbath, it’s somewhere in Exodus 20 and part of the Ten Commandments. The Pastor with the help of other members of the congregation went a little further in an effort to educate my poor mother. They explained how the Prophet [Ellen G. White] had written how competitive sports degrades humanity bringing out the lowest animal instincts and most un-holy desires of the flesh. To our grief, that was the last time Tiberio and I ever got to swim at the pool --that after all was impurely contaminated with the presence of sinners. That meant, no baseball [or any other form of sports] either.
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I think I was about 36 when I finally realized that there was something wrong with my health. I had fainted for the third time, and each time, after performing the simplest of exercise. Well… it wasn’t really exercise. I used to play with my daughters; catch me if you can. It was only five minutes of sprinting, jerking, and zigzagging. They could never catch me, but they had lots of fun. Those five minutes, however, would bring me to a comatose state. So painful that I could never forget the process even if I wanted to. It starts with a bizarre vision of transparent dots the size of flies randomly dancing inside the eyes, followed by the most awful and anguished sensation that can not be called pain but it can be described as if life is slowly returning to the Creator from your debilitated laying body as the voices of people and other sounds, gradually faint away. Then, as if Giver of life had rejected your soul, the essence of life begins to crawl back into the sweaty-pale-faced corpse welcomed by the increasingly louder world of sound with your daughters anxiously screaming “daddy!” ---“daddy!” --“daddy!”.
In the past, whenever this had happened, I had gotten away with anonymity. I had been able to lay underneath a tree where everyone thought I was only napping, all the while painfully feeling like I was dieing. Afterwards, I would question myself for days: What was that? What does it mean? Did it really happened?
Back at my old boarding academy (high school), the nurse used to prescribe exercise as a cure to any ailment. Now frustrated, I decided to start jogging. I concluded that the “strange” episodes were caused by lack of exercise. Trotting is a simplest form of exercise. It can be done anywhere, at any time and it does not require any sort of special equipment. The exercise world was a lot simpler to me then. I didn’t own a pair of running shoes, but in my profound ignorance I didn’t know there was such a thing anyway, so I could do it with my pair of comfortable rubber sole shoes, jeans and a cotton t-shirt.
Life has a seemingly enigmatic way to come full circle. Now, almost 30 years later, I went back to the site where that pool had been constructed. A track had been added right next to it a few years later. So I started visiting that track next to my childhood Olympic pool from which I had been deprived by Satan [with the help of the Prophet] with the firm objective to run one mile twice a week. Just four laps around the track, one mile, twice a week, easy, clear-cut, no complications, simple --right?. Except… I couldn’t. One thousand and six hundred meters was more distance than I had originally conceived. At 36 I was barely able to jog ½ mile at 12 minute per mile pace before someone would almost have to call 911. I became comatose twice a week after jogging 800 meters. The flies inside my eyes became periodic associates. Not to mention that insufferable burning-itch in my thighs.
That really angered me to the point that I decided I would commit suicide if it came to it, but I would do it by forcing myself to jog one mile regardless of the consequences. Needless to say; I didn’t die. Nonetheless, progress was slow if non-existent. After more months, I still could not run a full mile without walking.
Back in college I had crossed paths with another Computer Science major of my same class. We never became friends, but we knew each other. Soon after college he had joined the Army. At this time he happened to be stationed at the nearby Army base –Base Buchanan. After so many years, we crossed paths again. He had climbed up to some sort of high rank, so it was with affection that I now called him “Major Nelson”. Being in the Army he had to run two miles under certain criterion followed by hundred pushups and a hundred sit-ups in order to periodically “pass” some sort of physical test. As part of “maxing-out” the test and keep “good standing”, he was able to run two miles in under fourteen minutes. It seemed incredible. How awesome! I thought that he belonged in the Olympics… and that’s how he became my hero. I spent time with him almost every day.
Major Nelson was altruistic and kind enough to take me under his wing. Being that Army PT test all he knew, he slowly brought me to that grueling point where I could run two miles followed by one hundred push-ups and a hundred sit-ups. As disciplined, talented, and dedicated as he was; he was not able to bring me to the point of “maxing-out” the test before he was transferred to a far away land in the Middle East. However, I was now able to run two miles without waking and not have to dial 911.
That was a huge victory! It’s no wonder how by now I felt like I was some sort of athlete. I felt invincible and… I was also hooked. My brain and my body now had acquired a dependency on jogging at least three or four times per week. I had also purchased fancy running shoes that cost close to $75.00. They looked so beautiful, I would spent time just looking at them at least once a day. I’d wash my shoes after every run. Perhaps I should admit that I still do, it’s just that now I own over 20 pairs. I had even dropped a few pounds, not that many, but enough to feel like a feather. I had never fancied how running could ever become as much or even more fun to me than work.
Sooner or later, I suppose, it was bound to happen. One evening after track, the Olympic pool fancied my attention. I still can’t recall what mysterious force compelled me to get closer. In some sort of daze, I walked like a zombie in that direction where I could see adult people swimming. This happened a few times before I ever spoke to anyone there only to learn that I too could join them every evening. It was a city program aimed at providing adults a place to swim. They called it “masters swimming”. Furthermore, it was free and they even had a coach with Olympic experience. It was a no-brainer. I had to join them.
Each lane was shared by about six to eight people swimming in a straight line after each other. It was dazzling. It looked like synchronized swimming. It also only made perfect sense to dive in the lane where there was the least number of people, and so I did. However, that caused some sort of commotion. Especially since I did not understand that they were all screaming at me. She was furious and clearly upset yelling at the coach to get that asshole [me] out of her lane. When I finally understood it was me they were all screaming at, I thought she was so rude. What had earned her the right to own a private lane? Michelle made me feel uncomfortable and most un-welcomed. Well… it took me a while to understand how lanes are shared according to the swimmer’s skills. Michelle was right to be angry at me. She was the best swimmer of them all. It made perfect sense. Keeping swimmers of comparable ability in the same lane is the only way to keep that many people in a straight line sharing the lane while always swimming on the right side of the lane back and forth without collisions.
As I was now jogging and swimming and feeling like I had reached the pinnacle of what is humanly possible, one night, at the pool, I met a 47 year old man with a body made of steel. I was even more impressed after learning that he rode 15 miles on his bike to come to the pool and then rode back the same 15 miles to get home after the workout. Not only that, he jogged 4 miles just before entering the water to swim 3000 meters every night. How in the world could a human do such a thing? It was mind boggling. Edwin was a “triathlete”. By then I had reached a workout of about 400 meters arriving at complete physical exhaustion. Imagine to be able to run and ride before the swim workout.
Inspired by the man with the body made of steel, I would alternate swimming with jogging every other night. What helped to keep me inspired and seemed really amazing to me, was that a full year hadn’t passed before I was, rightfully, swimming in the same lane with Michelle. She had been a swimmer all her life and had a real collection of medals and awards as witness of her greatness. I felt the outmost respect for this 28 year old woman. She is a very discreet and introvert person, but I felt she had taken me under her wing. She warmed up to me to the point that she would wait for me to show up before starting the workout. We became swimming buddies for the duration of the 3000 meters every night. Ever grumpy, with her constant pressure and demands I became a very good swimmer. I can’t remember at which point I realized that I could swim better than Edwin, or most other people for that matter. Yet, as an athlete, he commanded [and still commands] my admiration and respect.
I soon purchased my first bike where my loving fascination for riding began. I’ve written vastly in Spanish and English about this love affair. Still, I feel I just can’t quite grasp the right words to express they joys, the freedom and adventure of riding. With the passing of time, I became acquainted with other people that helped me and influenced me greatly. Eric Lugo, Carlos Lomba, Kenneth Cariño, Angel Pérez, and many others from whom I’ve learned tons of good stuff. All of whom have been so kind as to grant me their friendship. After participating in marathons, countless century rides, open water swims of up to 5 kilometers, and triathlons, I’m ever increasingly indebted to all of them.
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During this time I’ve learned many things about exercise. I’ve learned that fitness and cardiovascular conditioning is a science and it is also an individual art. I’ve learned that everyone wants to attain fitness, physical shape, and cardiovascular conditioning. There is nothing inherently wrong with these objectives. However, they can become an obsession, like a religious or cultural identity, a fascination of sorts that can lead a person to the same ridiculous characteristic behavior that is observed on religious fanatics. Perhaps it is not as evident at first. It crawls on you a step at a time, just like religion but without the singing and the chanting (which, by the way, are the most effective ways of reprogramming thought). And since you are urged to depart from everything else, it becomes more and more radical while convinced you are actually doing the right thing. Just like the followers of Jimmy Jones who committed mass suicide in Guyana or like the followers of David Koresh who’s self-fulfilled prophesy of a burning world-end-events became their moment of personal vindication. How pathetic. Every once in a while we need to step back and contemplate our daily habits and priorities. At no time should we sacrifice the things we really want for what we “think” might want today. The important thing is keeping the important things the important things. With that in mind, I’ve summarized a couple of principles that I try to share with every person that comes to me asking for fitness advise. As a disclaimer I should add that if you embrace any type of Olympic dreams, then this is not for you.
Principle number one is to try to do at least one hour of cardiovascular exercise every day. A decent level of health and fitness can be obtained and maintained by doing one hour of aerobic exercise each day. The use of a heart rate monitor can help to be certain that you are actually performing aerobic exercise. If the use of a heart rate monitor seems too complicated or too scientific then making sure you can speak, even in broken sentences, while performing the exercise, is another way to confirm that you are actually on the aerobic zone. I believe that anaerobic exercise has its place, but it makes no sense to step into this zone while the aerobic anatomy and physiology is still weak or not well developed. By the time a person is ready to begin anaerobic exercise, they’ll have achieve a lot more knowledge about themselves and how their body reacts to exercise.
Certain natural laws can not be altered. These laws are part of creation. To me, when the Bible speaks of God’s laws, it is really referring to these natural laws. For example, no one person can escape death. Lazarus who resuscitated from the dead [only to die again] can witness to the inexorable certainty of this natural law. Nature can not be deceived. By the same token, nature would only be most unfair if after a month of daily aerobic exercise, someone becomes an Olympian. But, just as well, nature will reward your constant and faithful daily effort with new levels of fitness that never ends until death. That is also a natural law. The message here is be consistent, don’t give up, don’t wait any longer, and… on the humorous side: God will not be mad at you or want to punish you if you exercise on the Sabbath
[pun intended].
The second principle has to do with dieting. In order to keep the important things important, then the things you want now can not replace the important things. Eating is a necessity, but it is also a habit. Just make the right habits. Taste is learned. You may think you want that ice cream now, but is that part of the important things? I have summarized what I believe to be the correct way of eating as the “no-nonsense” diet. No-nonsense follows three simple steps:
• No sodas or any “sweet” drink at any time during the day or night. To stop drinking all these venoms is a no brainier. But to most people this principle makes no sense. We have become so accustomed to drinking Coke, Pepsi, and all the others, that a life without these high-caloric-stimulant-cocktails seems absurd. That’s when the prophesy in the Bible becomes true: “they will call evil as good, and good as evil”. Obviously this principle includes avoiding ice-cream, candy, or high-fructose-sweets. These substances do not even fall into any category that may be called “food”. They can only be called non-sense consumables.
• Smaller servings. In our never-ending-abundant society, we’ve become accustomed to huge servings that are simply not meant for humans. Smaller portions also helps regulate better other chemical processes in the body fencing against certain diseases.
• No fast foods. Bad news –sorry, the best nutrition available is found at home. Stop arguing this point. And believe it: one apple a day keeps the doctor away. Don’t over do it. One serving of fruit per day is like one hour of exercise per day. The more the better, --yes, but up to a point.
Finally, find a support group. I know, this is like sending you to church. But hopefully by having more than just one single support group while networking with all sorts of cultures and people and keeping your old friends and family close, you keep your eyes open and alert for the excesses of fanaticism and won’t be drifted into a cult that might be on its way to commit mass suicide or where you must give your life, your time, and your income to the pastor [common --it’s a joke].
I still take great pleasure out of what I do that people call work, but now I also enjoy, perhaps even more, the great opportunity that has freely been presented to me of being able to participate and become part of the sport of swimming, running, and cycling while obtaining good health and a great level of fitness. The flies no longer inhabit my eyes. Like old acquaintances, I remember them with a certain degree of affection. Perhaps they remember me as well and are content with the mere remembrance of our past relationship.
El gran Gurú, Manuel Barreiro, AKA "El Chamo", dice que los triatletas siempre tienen una excusa y una recóndita manera de intrínsecamente calcular en cuantos minutos menos hubiesen terminado la carrera si no hubiese sido por...
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