A gym, a bar, and a tango instructor – branching out

I almost changed gyms the other day. I nearly sold out. When I first came here, I joined a small, family-owned gym right by my house called “La Florcita.” They offer exercise classes and a rather cramped weight room with the bare necessities: a couple run-down treadmills, some ellipticals, a few stationary bikes, two cable machines, a limited stack of free weights, and other assorted machinery.

This is fairly typical of most gyms in Buenos Aires. However, there also exists a large and expensive chain of gyms called Megatlon which offer the amenities that one would generally find in a university gymnasium. It has steam rooms, showers, basketball courts, pools, and state-of-the-art equipment. Much like the Yates Field House, which we Hoyas hold so close to our hearts.

So, as the end of my month trial membership at the local gym came to a close, I nearly walked into the Megatlon in my barrio Almagro and inquired about a membership. My reasoning was simple. I would be able to get a better workout with more equipment available to me. It would be more comfortable. It would be better. Essentially, it would be more American.

But then, I thought some more. I started to feel guilty. The people I see and greet everyday in the gym are the same people who I see when I walk around my neighborhood. I would feel bad leaving the trainer, Sebastian, with whom I talk every day and who greets me with a kiss on the cheek as is a customary greeting among all friends/acquaintances in Argentina. Sure, I don’t actually have any concrete allegiance to the gym and am perfectly free to take my business elsewhere. Yet there is a certain intangible quality about the gym which keeps me drawn to it.  It’s this quality that makes me feel like Benedict Arnold when I even think of switching.

“La Florcita” is friendly, down-to-earth, and after one month, familiar. These are the people of my neighborhood, the place where I have lived for almost 2 months and will continue to live for approximately 3 more. I feel a certain tie to them and to making the most out of my experience here.

For this reason, I decided to renew my subscription to the small, slightly shabby gym to push myself out of my comfort zone. The idea worked well, I look forward to going to this gym every day –to establishing a new routine. From an exercise vantage point- there have been many beneficial outcomes. To start, I have been more actively exploring the city in search of places to run, stumbling upon a couple new parks not too far from my house. Furthermore, I have been forced to get more creative with my weightlifting routine in order to better make use of the machines there. All in all, it was a sound decision.

Lesson learned: the best things aren’t necessarily the most comfortable things at first. Another quick example: of all the swanky bars and ritzy clubs that I have frequented in Buenos Aires, my favorite bar remains a virtual hole-in-the-wall bar, a stone’s toss away from my house. Almost every night, the place is full of locals, including a frequent live performance of Argentine a capella or folk music. The prices are cheap, the people are kind, and the bartender has agreed to teach me how to tango.

And as far as discomfort goes, learning to tango is pretty high up there for a hearing impaired non-dancer with absolutely no hint of musicality. I suck. I’m God awful.  But I’m trying.