南向き翻訳事務所 岩渕デボラ ブログ

As I have mentioned, a new gym has opened up in our neighborhood. It is staffed by a small army of youth that greets members with a smile, answers questions, cleans up, AND runs short exercise programs in the pool and gym studio. I have become addicted to these programs, especially the ones in the pool. I have the schedule on the wall here and check it several times a day, planning the rest of my activities around it. Yesterday I chose “Simple Aqua Aerobics.” Simple for who? I ask. But the trainer is a young woman in her early 20s without a ripple of fat anywhere. She demonstrates the moves pool side, sweating profusely, but tirelessly encouraging us on. She sounds like me in my English classes: “Good!” “OK!” “Let’s go!” Since I can’ t make out much else she says through her microphone because of serious competition with the music on the loudspeaker, I just keep my eyes glued and try to faithfully reproduce every movement. My body is busy, but my brain is not. When it’s over, my brain turns on again, and I am able to get myself out of the pool and into the bath on my own.

I’ve found exercise to be a necessity for someone like me who works either sitting down or standing up, and not a lot of motion in between. I have tried walking, and get some of my best ideas on a brisk turn around the neighborhood, but recently my brain is tired. I don’t always want to have an original thought. I don’t necessarily want to spend quality time with myself.

That’s why I love my gym programs, simple or not, and will continue to attend. Pamela Uchida claims that the emptying of the brain in this way is very zen. It takes some imagination to get zen out of cute instructors of both genders in very tight outfits with disco blaring in the background, but I see what she means. Maybe we could call it 21st century zen. I’ll mull it over later, perhaps during a short stint in one of the massage chairs in the “relaxation room.”