What's YOUR Workout Like?

First off, I would like to give a huge thanks to Andrew over at Dynamic Fitness! He writes an awesome fitness blog and a couple weeks ago when I stumbled upon it I sent him a fitness related question not thinking anything would come of it. He was kind enough to post a detailed response and informative response on his blog. Andrew is smart, writes well and has a lot of knowledge to share. So if you are like me and are interested in health and fitness related writers you definitely need to check him out, you won't be sorry.

My fitness related question to Andrew went something along the lines of, "Should I continue to work out outdoors when there is a high pollution factor in the city I'm in?" He reccommended trying to stick to green areas as much as possible. So in an effort to spare my lungs from as many free radicals as possible, I decided to start walking to the closest park and then jog once I'm there instead of starting my jog off right in my trafficky neighborhood.

Let me tell you what that walk is like. First off you'll need a little background information. In Chile blondes are a rarity. They're considered some kind of crazy exotic beauty. I'm not saying this to toot my own horn, but, I'm blonde. Men will holler and hoot at any women, whether she's fat, skinny, pretty ugly, whatever, as long as she has light colored hair. I am THE only blonde in my neighborhood. I've lived here for over two years and have yet to see a fellow straw-head.

So I head for the park at a brisk walk. I wear black yoga pants, a long sleeved white t-shirt and tennis shoes. My hair is in a pony-tail, always greasy because I don't take my daily shower until after my workout. The only makeup I have on my face is SPF 45 sunscreen. Because of the damn hole in the ozone I will look like a blonde tomato if I don't wear it.

As I walk down the street, I would say at least 1 out of every 20 cars that passes me honks and in many cases, the driver will stick his head out the window to yell something. I can't hear them, I'm wearing headphones and listening to my beautiful pink iPod gifted to me a few months ago.

But, I cannot risk showing the iPod out in public. It would just be too much temptation for this poor neighborhood and I'm not one to tempt fate. So the little beauty gets stuck in the waist band of my pants. The elastic is quite tight and holds it up nicely. I'd use one of those arm band thingys but my t-shirts are always white and you can see the iPod right through them. If I want to check my time or my pace, I must discreetly pull the iPod out while I'm facing a wall or behind a tree or something so nobody can see me. I'm not saying all Chileans are thiefs, that's not what I mean. But, I am saying that I live in a very low income neighborhood and a lot of those people can't put food on the table. Necessity dictates many of their actions. If I were that poor I'd probably steal the iPod of the little Gringa walking down the stree without a clue, too.

The first part of my walk passes a gazillion mechanic's workshops. I wear a baseball hat with the cap pulled down low over my eyes so they can't see my whole face. I've found this works well in reducing the amount of men that try and harass me. It also semi-hides my expression when I am trying not to laugh at their horrible pick up lines. Also, walking with my head down serves another purpose. I can watch the sidewalk for dog poop so I don't step in it. The people of Chile are against spaying and neutering their pets. There are strays EVERYWHERE, and in a low income neighborhood like mine the government doesn't pay street workers to clean up after them, as they do in the upper class areas of Santiago.

When I arrive at the park their are always dozens of people there. This park is giant, shady and apparently a huge hang out for young students who like to smoke weed. I thought I would see more joggers but I could count the number that I've passed on one hand. So while I'm jogging around I have to deal with dozens of high schoolers. Little boys, whose friends egg them on. Sometimes I'm greeted to the lovely chorus, of "Fuck you, Gringa, fuck you!" Once an entire soccer team that was doing sprints switched the direction they were running to follow me down the path I was on, screaming comments the entire time about how I "run like a girl." Yep, I am one, thanks for pointing that out. Another time a little twelve year old boy faked a slow motion run like in the movies, with his arms wide open as if we were about to embrace. He thought I would veer off my path but I didn't. Nearly took the little bastard out. Wouldn't have been pretty, I'm a lot bigger than him.

Oh yeah, and add to the fact that I have to run past, two Chinese restaurants, one Mom and Pop diner that has mashed potatoes (my favorite!) on the menu every day, an Empanada, fried chicken and french fries joint, and about a dozen kiosks all containing little bags of chips, and chocolates and gum and other sweets. The smells kill me. They make me want to turn around, go back home, eat a huge lunch and take a nap.

So if you think its hard for you to get motivated to work out, think about what I have to deal with. Be thankful you can run quietly, with nobody staring, nobody yelling, nobody following you. You probably don't have to dodge dog poop every two steps, and there's probably not a hole in the ozone layer where you live making the sun so hot its like a lazer beaming down on you trying to sizzle off your skin, all while you pass delicious tempting eateries, worrying about not getting robbed.