—There are days when a long walk near the sea is the best medicine against anything, above all against things that have a bearing on the soul. A little salt residue penetrating the pores, the nearly hypnotic sound of the waves and even the sun opening lines in the skin is an ideal remedy.
The closest such place I had on hand that afternoon was the Malecon seawall and I didn’t hesitate to walk it from end to end, despite knowing that anything could happen during the kilometers of concrete and “dienteperro” (a type of jagged rock common along the coast).
Perhaps I really went to the Malecon because I wanted “something” or maybe “someone” to happen, to try and forget the problem that was suffocating me.
And “he” approached me with the unsolicited comment that none of the people who passed by jogging knew the damage they were causing themselves: that when you’re doing physical exercise you shouldn’t drink water until the end; not a drop. He said we should take the body to its maximum, use up the last ounce of strength we have inside. Then we will really be treating our body correctly.
I told him that in gymnasiums I’d seen that trainers allow you to rest and drink water, even water with sugar. However, he told me that what they were doing was taking the money from the innocent that paid to stay in shape or have an athletic or healthy body.
Then he suddenly paused, placing himself right in front of me, and attacked like a machine gun in which I noted certain decency. “I give a training in which you note the changes immediately, and my versatility allows me to be in the position you choose, in front: twenty the hour, ten for extras, a hundred the entire night, on my back double.”
To be continued…