Rocky would be proud

Don’t worry Trav-
my new trainer is a fan of the plank as well.

I am an avid dabbler. And fitness has always been something I dabble in. Whenever I’m in Spokane I head for Travis’ class at the U-district. I attend his core training classes Tuesday/Thursday 6-7AM which go way beyond the blandness of bar-bells and bench presses. For me, those 60 minutes are my perspirational Prozac; without them I feel lost.

So, seeing as Bishkek has no U-district, I brought the U-district to Bishkek. OK, I admit, my jimmy-rigged class might not have the same level of diversity, flare and laughs that you find at Travis’ but it works in a pinch and goes something like this:
6AM: alarm goes off, shoes on and out the door by 6:06, commence running, down seven flights of stairs, exit the insanely heavy steel door on the ground floor, immediately grab a rock and scan the scene for angry junkyard dogs. Cross the street, hand-vault the chest high fence, picture the strange look on the gas station attendant’s face as he watches this most mornings, continue though the railway yards. Up and over the pedestrian overpass, pass the statue that looks a lot like Stalin on horseback, upon reaching the long, wide park/promenade start speed workout, run one block fast, one block slow, to the main square and back.

Start for home, crossing back over the railway overpass, this time slow to a walk, enjoying the view of the massive Tien Shan mountain range.

Hand vault the fence again, this time with noticeably less finesse, run behind the apartment building to the Soviet-era playground, head for the metal bar and do Rocky-in-training-montage pull-ups.

Double-time it up the stairs and finish strong with a collection of girly exercises from a page torn out of a women’s health magazine which I found tapped to the inside of my bedroom door from the previous westerner, presumably female.

Ok- so it’s not exactly the U-district but gimmie-a-break,

I’m in Kyrgyzstan running with goats.